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the-bentley · 5 years

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The Sacrifice

Crowley was correct, unfortunately. There was some breathing space of a few thousand years before Heaven and Hell decided the time was right for their war. And war it was.

The Earth burned and humanity destroyed in the wake as the two sides worked together to wipe out every last human alive out of fear of what the humans had become capable of through technology. It was no longer a world for angels and demons. Both sides feared a mortal race that was well on its way to becoming divine.

Aziraphale and Crowley could do nothing even though they still stood with humanity. They were only two supernatural beings against an army of millions of them. Eventually both were captured then pressed into service, the attempted executions forgotten. Their sides seemed to think it was a greater anguish to force lover to fight against lover in the next wave of the War to End Everything. With humanity gone, Heaven and Hell had turned on each other.

The Almighty was still absent, not speaking to even the Metatron. The Adversary had not been merely sent back to Hell by Adam Young; he had been erased from existence when the boy told him he was not his father. The angels had been running the show for almost all of human history. Satan’s lieutenants were the ones in charge since that first attempt at world destruction. Chaos reigned supreme.

Beelzebub eventually had been killed by Michael in a dual between the two. Both sides watched her crumple to the ground after a fight that could have been either one’s. Michael was gravely wounded in the process, exiting the war until Raphael could heal her.

Crowley found himself in charge of the Legions of the Damned. Suddenly, he went from traitor to the one who could save them all because he was the only demon with an imagination; the only one who could think outside the box. It wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough, ever.

They were overwhelmed from the start – only one third of Heaven Fell in the Great Rebellion. The angels greatly outnumbered them. Demon by demon, Hell started to realize this, understand that even Crowley’s cunning couldn’t pull them out of a sound defeat. Crowley felt wearied by it all. All he wanted was his angel back along with a safe place to spend time with him. Instead he was fighting to keep the carnage down and hopefully come to some kind of cease-fire until Heaven decided it was all or nothing.

He had lost Aziraphale to Heaven, half his troops had been destroyed and it looked like the remaining demons still alive would be joining them very soon. In their anger, their despair, they blazed quite a path through the Army of the Divine. It was a scorched Earth policy that left every angel in their path dead. Heaven had forced Crowley’s hand in that manner. He hated himself for what he had become.

The Legions were under orders to only take one prisoner. Crowley wanted to make sure Aziraphale stayed alive. The best way he could accomplish this was by having him captured then delivered to him so he could personally keep the one he loved safe from harm. If he couldn’t, they would perish together.

The life of any demon who dared to kill him was forfeit. Crowley would make sure that demon died the most painful death possible before he followed Aziraphale to the grave. There would be nothing left in the world for him if the angel was gone.

Currently, he was in hand-to-hand combat with Michael, sure that he wasn’t getting out of it alive when suddenly the Metatron approached to call for a parley. Michael backed off at the appearance of her superior, standing off to the side with head bowed and sword held casually by her side. Crowley was not fooled. It would take the Archangel a fraction of a second to become lethal again.

At the sound of “Parley!” being boomed across the burned and broken battlefield, both sides gathered behind their leaders, the fighting momentarily stopped. Armies stood behind both the Metatron and Crowley, the infernal looking more battered and bruised than the ethereal.

“This ends now,” said the Metatron. “You will be cast back into the Pit and sealed in never to surface to bother us again. If you turn on yourselves and destroy each other down to the last demon, that is not our concern.”

“That’s not much of a parley,” sneered Crowley. “What do we get out of it?”

“You get a Realm of your own. Rule it how you choose.”

“Ok . . . An isolated Realm of my own to rule, which I don’t even want. How nice of you leaving me thousands of bored demons to find busy work for. Thanks so ever much. How is that negotiation, again? You’ve offered me nothing I desire.”

The lieutenants standing behind the Metatron parted, revealing a kneeling figure dressed in white, hands chained, white-blond head bowed low. Crowley immediately reacted.

“Aziraphale! No! What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. He’s just been held as a prisoner. He’s yours now,” replied the Metatron. “It is an ancient Earth custom that the winning side would offer a member of its own tribe to the losing side as a symbol of the end of tensions between the two. We offer you Aziraphale as that traditional sacrifice.”

“No! You can’t. He’s not meant to Fall. He’s the best among you!”

“He will not Fall. Only God can make that happen, but he’s no longer one of us.”

Tortured blue eyes met pained serpentine ones. Not Aziraphale. Not the purest of angels, in terms of belief, condemned to the Pit. This couldn’t happen. Better Aziraphale be separated from him forever than endure eternity in Hell. How could he endure the horribleness that was Hell with that unpolluted belief of his? Crowley might be in charge now, but he was smart enough to know Hell was always going to be Hell. He couldn’t conceivably make it a place Aziraphale could cope with. He shed tears at those thoughts, not concerned that millions of angels and demons could see him doing so.

“And if I don’t accept?”

Michael walked over to Aziraphale, her sword re-ignited. She stood with it poised over his neck. To his credit, Crowley’s angel didn’t flinch.

Aziraphale’s demon did.

“No! You can’t kill him. Please . . .” Crowley begged. “Let him go. I will take him.”

Aziraphale was helped to his feet, unchained and allowed to run over to Crowley, who hugged him tightly. All around them demons screamed as they were sucked into the Earth, never to return. Crowley unwound from the embrace, quickly taking Aziraphale’s hand. Dragging the angel after him, he leapt into the air.

“C’mon! Beat those wings! We’ve got to escape!”

Surprised into action, Aziraphale clumsily flapped at first then wasted no time getting up to steady strokes that helped carry both of them higher. He gave Crowley a confused look. Crowley returned it with a reassuring smile.

“We’ll get killed!” cried the angel.

“Is that so bad? Neither of us is going to like our “reward”. C’mon, angel. We’re off to Alpha Centauri. We should have done this the first time.” Crowley’s grin was feral and his auburn hair fiery in the sunlight as they passed beyond the cloud cover.

He looked down at Aziraphale whose eyes and hair shone like the sky and sun in this utter freedom. Aziraphale smiled slightly. It was a scared smile, but a trusting one. Willingly, he allowed Crowley to guide them up away from the carnage below.

On the battlefield, the Metatron held Michael back from following them and barked at the archers to stand down.

“You’re letting them get away?” demanded Michael.

The Metatron looked serenely at her with eyes the color of deepest metallic gold. “The Seers foresaw this future . . . one of many. I hoped it was the one that would come to pass.”

“Why?” Michael watched them dwindle from a black-robed redheaded demon holding the hand of a white-robed, blond-haired angel to two dots that eventually merged into one before vanishing entirely. “If those two don’t deserve death for all they’ve done, they surely deserve imprisonment for eternity.”

“Yes, but imprisonment means the chance for escape while death means the chance their spirits would eventually be recreated. There are only so many spirits in the world and in the near future, the Almighty will start creating new angels and humans to replace those lost, pulling together the scattered atoms of former spirits. Paradise will be reconstructed. We do not need another pair of freethinkers among us,” replied the Metatron. “Their rogue atoms will no longer be around to trouble the world.”

He surveyed the broken land containing the remaining angel army. “Send them into the ground to kill all the demons. We cannot risk them ever rising again. Without Lucifer’s spirit to resurrect and those two troublemakers gone, the Almighty can re-Create them as proper, obedient angels in the future. As further precaution, the Seraphim will weave a spell around the Realms to prevent our rebellious angel and demon from ever returning.”

Michael nodded. “It sounds like we just might get our Paradise after all.”

“We will. We will make sure of it this time.”

~*~*~

Two balls made up of motes of energy barely held together after being buffeted by the stark radiation of space for the years they traveled floated gently to the beach to manifest into two beings – one with tousled fiery red hair and yellow serpentine eyes, the other with a curly cloud of white-blond hair and sky blue eyes. They still wore the tattered, battle-damaged tunics they left Earth in. The one in black carried a sword, the one in white held nothing.

“We are truly on our own now,” commented Aziraphale.

Crowley squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. “We’ll be fine. We survived the trip and it looks habitable here. It should be ok.”

“What about our powers?”

“What about them? I still feel mine. It wouldn’t make sense if we couldn’t use them anywhere in God’s Creation.”

Aziraphale poked a bit at the green sand with his sandaled foot and stared at the riot of colors that made up the various tree leaves. This place was going to take some getting used to. What was he going to do without books? Putting that thought aside, he reached inside of himself to feel for his connection with God. It was still there, mourning for the destruction of Earth.

“I still feel the Divine Grace,” he said to Crowley. “God is mourning the loss of Earth. Why didn’t the Almighty prevent it?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like God talks to demons. Let’s take a look around.”

They headed into the forest with its trees of different coloured leaves. Alien species of bird-like creatures that flew with four wings sang high up in the strange trees. Something furred galloped by on six legs. Unfamiliar squawks and calls surrounded them, making Aziraphale rather nervous, reaching out to grab the demon’s hand. Crowley seemed to take it more in stride.

More deliberate sounds than those of animals moving around came from the east in the forest. Puzzled the pair moved that direction to check it out, Aziraphale holding tightly to Crowley’s hand; Crowley raising the sword in a defensive position as they moved forward carefully. Sentient life was not exactly something he was expecting.

Aziraphale ignited the blade, making Crowley almost jump.

“Don’t do that!” he hissed. “You almost scared me to death. I’m on edge enough as it is here.”

“It’s impossible to scare you to death, my dear.”

“Shh. Just prepare some offensive magic, ok?”

Aziraphale crept up to peek through some pink-leaved bushes. He blinked in complete surprise. “Crowley, it’s a village.”

Crowley pushed aside branches to view the primitive but comfortable-looking village complete with humanoid creatures that greatly resembled Earth’s humans. He almost rejoiced. They were not here alone and he found that comforting for some reason.

“Life finds a way, right Aziraphale? I forget what film that’s from, but it’s not exactly important anymore, is it?” Crowley grinned. “A whole new set of humans free to develop as they choose.”

“No ethereal plane here,” commented Aziraphale. “I can’t move my wings into it. That means no Heaven or Hell. Do you think God wanted to start again without interference? Or is it part of the ineffable Plan that we’re here? Are we meant to guide them?”

Crowley thought a moment. “No. They’re meant to guide themselves. We should keep our distance and watch from afar for a while. C’mon. Let’s head a few miles away from here and make our own camp for the night. Hopefully there are no apple trees on this planet; I’d like to avoid those, too.”

Aziraphale gasped in excitement, pulling at Crowley’s tunic. “Crowley, look! They have wings! We’ll fit right in.”

And the humans did – feathered wings of various colors and shades within those colors. They spotted every color of the rainbow, silvers, even some off-white ones. With a little help from their powers, they could change theirs enough to blend in, if they so desired.

“I know, we can’t guide them, but we can live among them like we did on Earth.” Aziraphale got a far-off look in his sky blue eyes. “We still get to be a part of it all over again. Imagine what they are going to be this time around without the threat of destruction hanging over their heads.”

Crowley laughed and kissed his angel. “You’re going to invent books if they don’t, aren’t you?”

Aziraphale’s sweet, sly smile told he just might.

They took each other’s hands, their fingers lovingly interlinking. Together they headed off to find a patch of paradise they could call their own until they were ready to introduce themselves and integrate with the winged humans.

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