When I say my heart froze when I saw the broken body of Cassius sprawled on the forest floor, laden heavily with wounds and dirt. How my heart burned with rage upon the sighting of Satan, grinning with delight and malice as the angel writhed beneath him. The way fury overtook me so greatly I could not utter a single shout; my voice was cold, reminding me of how this came to be.
His body was light as I rushed him to the sick rooms, limbs flopping helplessly with dead weight. His skin was alight with fever and infections, yet he shivered and whimpered when I drew the sheets back.
I was terrified of losing him, as I am with every Fallen, but this time was different. We’ve had angels wander out of our boundaries on accident, and we’ve always been able to catch them before things got difficult. Encounters with those six had always been rough, but not to this extent.
Never to this extent.
His mind, filled with sickness, rambled in his uneasy sleep. I did my best to sooth him, praying to the stars he would make it through the night. Many sleepless days were spent by his side, the seconds dragging by; the hours blending in a blur. How relieved I was upon seeing Cassius standing on his own, gazing out the window in awe, his previously burning skin now alight with life and health.
“Here is your room,” I said, turning to Cassius. “Servants have placed a change of clothes, so please, feel free to them. I will show you the baths after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Cassius said, pulling aside the curtain on the doorway. “You have done so much for me already. There must be some way to return my gratitude.”
My gut twisted. “Then get some rest. That is all I deserve.”
“Is there nothing I can do? Not even in the village? And when will I find permanent housing there?” Cassius covered his mouth, embarrassed. “Apologizes. There is still so much I do not know yet.”
I nodded, understanding. Many have come in his place before, all of them holding the same questions.
“That is reasonable. Though, it is late, and I fear you may fall asleep during my dry explanations.” Cassius pursed his lips in attempt of hiding his smile, but that did not stop his dimples from showing through.
“Then, tomorrow,” he confirmed.
“Yes. I wish you a good night’s sleep, Cassius.”
“Same to you, Lucifer.” Then he ducked under the curtain and was gone, leaving me to revere on how easily my name slipped from his tongue.
You are not worthy of this. You do not have the right to feel this way.
I know. I do not deserve his smile. Not after what I had done to him, to everyone living in Eden. Not after all the sorrow and pain I created as a sickening side effect of my selfish choices.
You are a sin. You do not have the right to feel this way. Not after everything.
You are not worthy of anything.
“I know.” My throat ached. After all this time, nothing had changed except the world around me. Even the stars burned out, the moon’s phases, the variations of the sun. I was drowning in it all, silently. I have not suffered enough to pay my dues, and karma knows this. She will suck my being dry until my bones remain, and I am sleeping in the earth’s embrace.
Just like the many nights before and many nights ahead, the moon’s lonely glow kept me company, falling through the window and nestling in the same spaces. This much, at least, has stayed the same.
In the safe privacy of my room I could finally relax, letting my shoulders drop, a sigh escaping me. Exhaustion caught up, begging me to collapse on the bed and not wake up until the sun has well risen. But the plants needed watered, and I needed to hatch out answers for Cassius’s many questions. I dragged my body through its nightly routine, ignoring my weary limbs. Such matters were trivial; I cannot rest until everything has been taken care of, and only then did I allow myself to drop on my bed, eyelids heavy.
*****
The morning was like any other in Eden. Clear, the sky bright and filled with crisp sun, refreshed from the night before. I, too, felt charged. Sleep had taken me to her deepest depths, allowing me a peaceful, dreamless rest. It had been one of those rare slumbers in which no nightmares chased me, and that I was grateful for. Washing my face, I donned a new set of clothes and was off to find Cassius.
He was awake when I knocked on the wall outside his room, the deep cerulean clothes I left him draped over his frame, bringing out flecks of amber in his eyes. I was lost in them until he spoke.
“Good morning.” His voice was heavy with sleep, his curls a ruffled, wild mess.
“Good morning.” I am an awkward man. Most of the time I do not know what to say. “I trust you slept well?”
“The incense was helpful. You did not tell me it had a sleeping agent mixed in.” His tone was playfully accusatory.
“I was simply trying to be of use.” I smiled as his stomach sounded for food. “Breakfast awaits you,” I said, sweeping an arm out in the direction of the dining hall.
“How kind of it to wait on me,” Cassius replied, bounding down corridor, hair flopping with his movements. I followed suit, admitting begrudgingly that I enjoyed his company, wincing at the sting of guilt that followed.
You are a sin.
You do not have the right to feel this way.
You are not worthy of anything.
I know, but when he smiles, when his eyes light up with curiosity, when he looks at me and makes me feel seen. Like he’s staring into what is left of my soul, touching something so disgusting and wounded. I wanted nothing more than to apologize to him, to all the Fallen.
I am the reason for their destroyed fate, and it haunts me every second. I let it dance around my mind, teasing and taunting and tormenting. If they must suffer, then I must suffer as well. Such is the way of the world; the world I had created.
“Are you well?” I asked Cassius, who was staring at his porridge, brows creased.
He looked up. “There’s been this strange feeling in my back, like something’s trying to burst out of my skin. It’s been getting stronger, and I’m worried.”
I froze, a numbing feeling climbing its way up my chest.
It’s too early for this to be happening.
“You may not want to discuss this so early,” I said softly. “I know you’ve only recently gotten the news, and not much is known about the Fallen up in the Holy Lands.”
Cassius pales, but nods, gesturing for me to continue. I noted how he tried to hide his trembling hands beneath the table.
“The first step of the process are the black markings, which will slowly spread over time. Then comes the molting when the decayed feathers begin to fall out. When one keeps their wings away too long, it builds up. Many have tried before in hopes of stopping the spread. We learned the hard way that it’s better to not let that happen.”
“What… happened to them?”
I shuddered. “Nothing but suffering. I still remember the screams from the last person who tried that method.”
“So, we exist just to suffer? To put up with it?” He sounded angry now, ready to set the world on fire. If he asked, I would have let him.
“Some have chosen not to,” I said faintly. “They wished to not endure it all.” Who was I to stop them?
“They did not wish to fight it? Not even to see if they had a chance at all?”
“They did not want to see themselves wither away, as there is no cure. They accepted it.”
“They gave up.”
“No, Cassius.” I sighed, stringing my hands through my hair in frustration. “This is a complicated topic.”
“Then let’s make it less complicated.” His face was set, and I knew he would not give this up.
“I am not one to speak for them,” I said. “I don’t know the true extent of their feelings. I gave them every option to stay. I offered every comfort, convinced them. I begged them, Cassius. I begged them not to leave. Some of them listened, and some of them didn’t. That is the story.”
I did not know I was crying until Cassius’ warm fingers gently graced my cheeks.
“Then you could do nothing about it,” he said simply. “I am sorry for lashing out at you. I am angry because I can do nothing but wait for this damned disease to take me.”
“If you truly wish to do something,” I whispered. “There is a library. Do with it what you will. I have no need for it. Come, I will show you. As one of Seraph Gabriel’s messengers, you must have a knack for organization and knowledge.”
He followed me, lagging slightly behind, his voice hesitant when he asked questions, relieved when I replied like nothing had happened at all. I cannot blame him; his emotions were true and just.
Cassius gasped when I opened the heavy wooden doors to the archives. Sunlight, thick with dust, swirled patterns through the frail air. There were no plants in here—I refuse to risk the safety of these sacred books and scrolls. Shelves towered up around us, reaching the skylight dotted ceiling. There had to be natural light as I trusted no flame within two hundred paces of the library.
Without waiting for me, Cassius bounded in, his eyes constantly shifting between shelves. “Amazing,” he breathed, a finger lingering not an inch above the spine of a leather-bound book. “How old are these?”
“Eons older than yourself.”
“Can I really…?”
“Please. That’s why I brought you here. Do whatever you wish.” But he had already plopped down on the floor, the thick book sitting in his lap, absorbed in the yellow stained pages.
As long as he’s happy.
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