Prologue: Messenger of God
The hooded man looked down on the hapless drunkard. His obvious impairments a great annoyance to his judgments.
“Who are you? Where do you hail from?” The hooded and cloaked man queried in a deep and unearthly voice.
From the air, the interrogator called upon his sword...
Ākhirah, Death answered his call...
Blinding light arose between the two. The drunkard carried off to another place.
God, in visage of man- now looked down on his second son...
“Azrael... It is not to you to execute judgment against liars and drunkards... What intend you to do with thine blade?”
Azrael fell to his knees, his sword hovering before him.
“Forgive me Father...” Azrael spoke in a humbled voice and a respectful tongue. “I had but intended to call upon the power of Ākhirah, to call on spirits of the past to reclaim the truth that shall be his last."
God shook his head, his eyes seeing within the fallen man prone to inebriation.
"The youngest, he yet again intends to mislead you... This, it cannot be..."
Azrael scowled as he prayed for the insight to see what is being concealed from his own.
Within the helpless drunkard, a devil has taken reign his soul.
"Satan!" Azrael commanded. ”Release this fool, lest I slay him and you with him..."
With a clenching of his right fist, God gripped at the spines of the two archangels.
“Enough!” God rumbled, thunder reaching his voice as he wrenched Satan from the fool and Azrael back to his knees.
"Not since Cain have I had so many sibling troubles to aid in contention with...”
Azrael called on His forgiveness. Satan merely sneered. Azrael drew deep for the strength to maintain his temperament. It does not do any being any good to draw on the anger of God.
"Return Satan to the Abyss, and make certain he never again escapes."
God released his hold on the two brothers as he returned to the lights in the evening sky. Before Azrael can lay a hand upon the devil, Satan- one time the most beautiful of God’s angels; became as shadow and phased into the darkness that surrounded them, but not without getting the last word.
"I know the way brother... Father, he just cannot take a prank."
Azrael crossed his arms, as his sword attempted to call on his master for service.
“Silence Ākhirah... Return to thine sheath... There shall be another time for your need.”
The intelligent cosmic blade Ākhirah, opened a passage through space and time... This warp bubble now opening, drawing the sword to Azrael's interdimensional sheath.
Azrael drew on the darkness that surrounds him, and the angel messenger of God returned to his place in the lights.
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