There are angels in muddy trenches on edge of the fourth sphere--angels pulling their wings tighter around themselves in order to ward off the cold; angels balancing rifle butts against the shoulder of their plate armor. Michael squints at a map; trying to read the spidery writing of dispatches by only the light of a gaslamp and his halo.
(Michael tired, Michael bone-wearied and his courage flagging but still walking among his brothers; clasping them on the shoulder and saying "look there, look--you can see the dawn coming" and then--Michael drawing his sword; leading them over the top with glorias on his lips, searching out Lucifer in the chaos of the field; pulled toward him like a compass to north.
Lucifer laughing when their swords ring out against one another's (the sound is a sound like thunder) and Michael--Michael wants to drop his sword and gather Lucifer into his arms, steal him away and back to that place where they were brothers; where they were one and whole and holy. But Michael has the corpses of his little brothers emblazoned on the backs of his eyes--their broken wings and bodies weight him down, the crown of heaven sitting heavy at his temples, so he only tightens his hand around his sword.
(The lie is that they are so evenly matched in battle that neither of them can gain enough upperhand to deliver the mortal blow. The truth is something closer to how Lucifer leaned in and snarled "did you miss me brother?" instead of reaching for his dagger, or the time Michael had his foot on Lucifer's throat and a sword poised to strike--and he froze there; shaking. How he turned away and launched himself at another rebel angel; leaving Lucifer to suck in a ragged breath and pick himself up out of the mud. In the chaos of battle who would notice if Lucifer attacked with less ferocity than he was known for; if unflinching Michael flinched?)
The battle ends with too many angels dead; their wings sullied and spread in the mud; Michael adds their bodies to the weight he carries.
(Michael is always tired now; Lucifer always calls him 'brother')
(the war drags on)
(Michael tired, Michael bone-wearied and his courage flagging but still walking among his brothers; clasping them on the shoulder and saying "look there, look--you can see the dawn coming" and then--Michael drawing his sword; leading them over the top with glorias on his lips, searching out Lucifer in the chaos of the field; pulled toward him like a compass to north.
Lucifer laughing when their swords ring out against one another's (the sound is a sound like thunder) and Michael--Michael wants to drop his sword and gather Lucifer into his arms, steal him away and back to that place where they were brothers; where they were one and whole and holy. But Michael has the corpses of his little brothers emblazoned on the backs of his eyes--their broken wings and bodies weight him down, the crown of heaven sitting heavy at his temples, so he only tightens his hand around his sword.
(The lie is that they are so evenly matched in battle that neither of them can gain enough upperhand to deliver the mortal blow. The truth is something closer to how Lucifer leaned in and snarled "did you miss me brother?" instead of reaching for his dagger, or the time Michael had his foot on Lucifer's throat and a sword poised to strike--and he froze there; shaking. How he turned away and launched himself at another rebel angel; leaving Lucifer to suck in a ragged breath and pick himself up out of the mud. In the chaos of battle who would notice if Lucifer attacked with less ferocity than he was known for; if unflinching Michael flinched?)
The battle ends with too many angels dead; their wings sullied and spread in the mud; Michael adds their bodies to the weight he carries.
(Michael is always tired now; Lucifer always calls him 'brother')
(the war drags on)
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