The scriptures spoke of ancient powers, of history and wars, of love stories older than time. They told me legends of my Seraphs that I hadn’t known before. Of how Seraph Ariel was born from the first spring flower, how Seraph Chamuel sprung from the handshake of two enemies. Such scrolls were so old they didn’t even mention the Falling, not even in their archaic vocabulary.

I slid the book onto the shelf, my awe slowing eating away. As much as I yearned to read the most aged of archives, I could not dare waste time. Hoping these were organized by dates, I moved from shelf to shelf, not knowing what I was searching for, praying that I will know once my eyes fall upon it. Yet they slid from book to scroll to plaque, not lingering in the same place twice.

The amazement I felt first smoldered into stress and hopelessness. Where do I begin? And how? There was too much to do with too little time. My back ached, and my mind flashed back to what Lucifer told me. Molting. Were my feathers really beginning to shed? I always knew it would get worse; I simply thought I had more time. I was wrong. So, so very wrong I wanted to laugh at my idiocy. Fear grabbed my throat and my lungs lacked air.

My life was ending.

Perhaps not at this moment, but it will. One day I will be nothing more than bones in the earth and the faint memory of a disappointment. One day, people will forget my name, forget who I am. Do I dare to fight for what’s left of this measly life?

Find Eden. You must survive.

My eyes grew hot with tears. Is this how I’ll end?

You must survive.

I’m trying.

Try harder.

I plucked a scroll from a random shelf, knocking books into my arms and slumping them down on a rickety table. After rummaging around, I found an ink bottle and a few quills in a drawer. They smelled faintly of mold but worked well enough for me to scrabble ideas on a spare leaf of parchment.

Here. This is where I will start. Right here, with this scroll, and I refuse to move on until I have read every single record on that shelf.

*****

Satan leaned over me; a cruel smile carved across his lips. The bejeweled hilt of a dagger glittered dangerously like the glint in his dark eyes. “Little one,” he crooned. “I’ve come for you.”

I leaped back, heart pounding as if it were trying to escape my chest. “How are you here?”

“I have my ways.” He licked the blade, eyeing my body.

“Go away.”            

“If that worked, little one, then no one would have died by my hands.” Satan stalked towards me, and I scrambled away, my back hitting an invisible wall.

“N-no,” I choked out.

Satan leered. “Little one, I’ve told you that it won’t work.” He raised the dagger, the tip pressing deep into my skin, laughing as I whimpered. “Yes, that’s it. Show me more.”

“Stop--!”

He shoved my front into the wall, tearing my robes until my back was exposed to the cold air. “Let’s have some fun, Cassius.”

The knife chiseled the flesh on my back over and over, creating burning lines of blood and skin. Bile rose through my throat, sour as it emptied to the floor. I could not speak to beg him; I could not open my eyes. I was helpless as a newborn.

“Cassius,” he chuckled into my ear. “Cassius.”

The smell of metallic mixed with vomit made me gag.

“Cassius!”

Lucifer’s strong arms enveloped me, and I clawed at his body, coughing. My throat was raw, acrid. Dazed and confused, my breaths cut short, my vision blackening.

“You’re in your room, Cassius. You’re in Eden. He can’t hurt you here.”            

Another bought of agony wracked over me. I bit Lucifer’s shoulder to keep from screaming. He rubbed circles on my lower back, below the sharp pains.

What is happening? Where is Satan? How—

“I am here, Cassius. Focus on my breathing.” His voice was a firm anchor in this world of wounds. “I am here with you. Do not lose yourself.”

“Lucifer,” I gasped, digging my nails into his skin. “Lucifer, it hurts.”

“I know, I know,” he hushed. A big hand covered the back of my head, bringing it to his chest, where he held my shaking form. “You need to bring your wings out, Cassius.”

“No, I can’t—”

“You need to.” Gentle, yet firm. “It will slow the pain.”

My vision flickered again. “I can’t!”

When did I start crying?

“You must, or you will only suffer more. I’ll be right here,” he murmured. “It will be alright, Cassius.”

I know it will not, but I clung to his words, soaking them in. He did not once voice a complaint, not even as I vomited again. He only held me tighter, whispering reassuring words into my ear.  Struggling to breathe, struggling to stay here, in the present, terrified of being lost in the pain.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”            

“Swear it,” I sobbed, breath ragged. “Swear you won’t leave me.”

“I swear it,” he said solemnly.

I let the first edges of feathers force their way from my back, biting back the shuddering wail that threatened to be released. Lucifer’s grip on me was unshakeable, his hand working down my spine. I was grateful for the distraction, my mind distraught with fear of what my wings looked like now. The feature I was most proud of, my freedom, slowly stripped away from me. I could do nothing but surrender to the agony and wait for death to take me.

I was furious at myself for to believing that I would find a way to live.

“You are not stupid, Cassius. Please do not deprecate yourself.”

Row after row of feathers broke through, each one more excruciating than the last. Unwholesome sweat crawled across my skin, soaking my robes, making the sheets below me damp.            

“Focus, Cassius, you’re almost there.”

I can’t, it hurst too much—

The scapulae slipped free with a sharp burst of anguish, leaving stars spotting my vision. A wave of nausea passed as I clung to the few strands of consciousness I had left. But relief washed over me, stronger than the spasms still wracking my body. The darkness was inviting, warm, and I leaned into it, accepting its embrace gratefully.

A hint of apology grazed my ear, so fleeting and quiet I might have mistaken it for the cool night breeze blowing through the window.

*****

A chilled cloth dabbed at my face, tracing my lips with the softest of touches. I groaned, opening my mouth, and the rim of a cup was placed there, urging me to drink. Water trickled down my throat, soothing the sting. I tried to open my eyes, but a hand covered them.

“Try to sleep, just a little longer,” he said quietly. “I will stay here.”

“Lucifer.” My voice was scratchy. From sleep or overuse, I did not know.

“Yes?”

“I… I was so scared.”

“Shh. Rest.”

“I’m tired of being fragile.”

“I know.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you wish.”

I opened my eyes despite his hand, instead placing my own over his, curling my fingers around his palm. “You swore it, remember?”

“I remember.”

“You can’t take it back. Not ever.” 

“I won’t. Now, rest. The sun is still rising.”

A vanilla-citrus scent filled the room, and his hand was warm against my skin.