Michael locked himself in his rooms. The stone winged lions guarding the entrance of his home growled at anyone coming near the steps so no one would disturb him. Using Heaven's Fire had taken its toll on his body and strength. That he had used it on Gabriël weighed heavy on his heart.
Most of all, Michael blamed himself for what had happened. If he had not allowed him to be Joan's guardian, he wouldn't have been at the Gates the day of the attack. They wouldn't be where they were now. Another creature conceived by darkness... Could it get any worse? 
That wasn't on Gabriël, though. Michael refused to believe he would have let himself fall prey to such primal urges. And even if Gabriël did need such release, there were billions of people to choose from on Earth. No, there was only one true culprit to look at who'd let his friend into temptation, like Eve did Adam. Having Gabriël weakened just made it easier for Joan to wind him around her finger. She knew such relations were forbidden yet still beguiled him into lying with her. For that, Michael hated her more than ever. 

He turned in his bed, noticing his pillow was wet with tears. Tears that had been shed in silence. Michael would never admit it, but he cared more for Gabriël than anyone would ever guess. They had shared everything together. Good times, bad times, and everything in between.
A long time ago, when Michael lost it all, it was Gabriël who had been there for him. Since then, they had kept each other from harm and stood side by side to lead the Vale into a prosperous age. How could he have failed so immensely?

Michael closed his eyes, trying to let his mind come to rest. A memory resurfaced. He was in the training room. Gabriël stood before him. His bare chest looked as if it had been cut out of smooth marble, sculpted to perfection, and his face angelic as always. The shadow hidden in his ocean blue eyes only accentuated them. 
He remembered the feeling of Gabriël's hand touching his face. And Gabriël's lips, pressed on his own. It hadn't surprised Michael that they had been soft. And even though he had sensed the darkness within, there'd been a brief second that Michael thought Gabriël had found out what he truly felt for him. What a fool he was.
Michael opened his eyes, hoping the image would disappear, yet it lingered stubbornly. He got up from his bed, walked over to the alabaster washbasin and splashed ice-cold water in his face.

I must not allow myself to think of him in such a manner, he thought, water dripping back into the basin. Last time, the love I had for someone destroyed me. I will not allow it to happen again. Nor will I allow you to lose your way, Gabriël. I will bring you back to us... to me.

***

The torchlight flickered in a gust of wind, causing shadows to dance inside the catacombs. Gabriël stood with his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He raised his eyes to Michael as the Lord Protector entered. It frankly surprised him Michael hadn't come sooner. But when he saw the way Michael kept his distance, he understood. The apprehension in the other Archangel's expression said it all. Michael likely wondered if he had lost his memories. He counted on it, no doubt.

"How do you feel?" asked Michael. "Do you remember anything?"

"Were you hoping I didn't?" Gabriël scoffed. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I did not mean it like that."

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," replied Gabriël mockingly.

"You cannot blame me for wanting to heal you. I did what I had to."

Gabriël rolled his eyes. The fact this man had ever been his friend sickened him. 

"What do you want from me this time, Lord Protector? Or have you just come to gloat?"

"I am concerned for you, Gabriël."

"Oh, please, don't make me laugh. You came to see if I'd lost my memories. Then you could fabricate some story about why I was in here."

"That is not -"

"I'm sure you would've told me about the demon inside me. But I wonder if you would have told me about Joan. And my child."

Michael remained silent, making Gabriël sigh. He shook his head in lament and said, "Your silence says enough."

"It would have been for the best, my friend."

"Don't you dare call me your friend! You lost my friendship when you banished the woman I love! You are the traitor to our bond, Michael, not me!"

All color seemed to drain from Michael's face then. It had been centuries since Gabriël had seen him so distraught.

"You call me a traitor?" Michael's voice trembled. "When it is you who broke his vow to God?"

"I vowed to be His Messenger." Gabriël stepped forward. "And I was. I vowed to be His sword, to be your sword. And I was. I vowed to always show compassion and mercy, to let love guide me in my actions. And I have. I listened to my heart. It told me to admit to what I have so long denied."

"You also vowed to follow the rules. You broke the most important one."

Gabriël scoffed again and returned Michael's intense look. The rules, always the rules... He was sick and tired of hearing about those goddamn rules!

"I love her, Michael," he said.

"You merely think you do." Michael waved his words away.

"No, I've wanted Joan to be mine from the first moment I spoke to her."

"What you feel for the girl is not real, Gabriël."

"It is. You just don't remember anymore. What it's like to have someone to love in your arms."

"Enough! I will hear no more of this!"

Michael turned away from him yet made no attempt to leave. Gabriël kept a close eye on him, deciding this was as good a time as any to see if what he'd been told was true.

"Very well," he said. "Let's talk of something else then. Let's talk about that particular rule you seem so keen on enforcing. One day, you summoned everyone to the Agora and told us romantic relations between angels were forbidden from then on, on pain of exile to an immortal life on Earth if we still persisted in having them. Later that same day, you summoned the Archangels to the Villa to tell us we alone were permitted to take a lover among the mortals as long as it didn't become serious. You even said it was preferable to keep it a one-time thing. I found it strange that only the Archangels were granted this exemption, but I made nothing of it and neither did any of the other. But that was the scheme of it, wasn't it?"

Michael said nothing. He kept his back turned on Gabriël, who continued, ever vigilant for the Lord Protector's reactions. 

"Because of what had happened with him, you realised that our powers were more remarkable than you once believed. You knew that the Archangels could give life, didn't you?"

"You are rambling."

"Am I? Then how do you explain a barren woman was able to conceive a child after having been with one of us?"

"Who told you this?" Michael spun round to face Gabriël again. "How did you learn of that?"

Son of a bitch, it's true! 

Gabriël couldn't believe it. Nor could he stop now.

"Does it matter?" he said to Michael. "I know everything. Margaret was pregnant with his child. Had he even hurt her? Or did you lie about that as well?"

"You do not understand! He was only using her!"

"That's what you told everyone. I wonder now if it's what you told yourself as well. Because maybe, he did love her. And maybe, you acted against them out of jealousy."

"Enough, Gabriël."

"You couldn't handle the fact that he had fallen for a mortal girl when he was already bedding you. You thought that he would stand by your side forever. All that happened then was because you couldn't let him go."

"I said, enough!"

Gabriël stopped. He was on thin ice now. Michael always kept his emotions to himself. This sudden outburst was all the proof he needed.
The Lord Protector stepped towards the cell. If he stretched his arm through it, he could take Gabriël by his throat. A tear glistened on Michael's cheek as it rolled down.

"I loved him," he said in a brittle voice. "We promised to be there for each other, to love each other, until the end of days. And I have never blamed Margaret. He was persuasive and charming, so I understand she fell for his seduction, same as I did. But he did not love her. Margaret was merely used for an experiment. By the time I discovered what had happened, it was already too late. You would have stopped me if I had told you the truth."

"From killing an unborn child? You're damn right I would have."

"That thing should not have been conceived in the first place. It was an abomination."

With one step, Gabriël was at the bars. The small amount of compassion he still held for Michael evaporated when he uttered those words.

"Is that what my child is to you as well?!" he demanded. "Will you go down to Earth and convince Joan I never loved her and that it would be better if she drank the same tonic you gave Marina? Or will you simply order the Nephilim to pour it into her cup when she's not looking?"

The two Archangels stared at each other. Neither gave in to the other's threatening glare. At that moment, Gabriël realised their bond, their friendship, was broken.

"I cannot allow this child to be born," Michael spoke first.

"If you ever loved me as your friend, you will allow it," said Gabriël.

"As my friend," repeated Michael softly as he retreated from the cell. "I have loved you as more than that, Gabriël. So much more."

"What did you - Michael, no, come back! Michael!"

***

Grigori hurried through the dark corridors of the palace. The cries grew louder as he neared the Master's rooms. The Bathory witch and the Borgia Bastard were waiting there for him.

"What happened?" he asked them.

"I was with him just now," said Borgia, "to discuss the possibility of an assault on the Nephilim Sanctum, based on the intel you provided. Then the Master stopped talking and just stared ahead of him. When his eyes turend white, I went to get the Countess. We found him screaming and ranting, knocking over the furniture in a rage."

"I suggested we summon you back here," Bathory continued in that thick accent of hers. "He trusts you, monk. You might just get through to him."

Something crashed against the doors, making them all jump back. Another scream came from within the room. Then deafening silence. After a few seconds, Grigori moved to the door.

"Close behind me," he said over his shoulder.

Carefully, he opened the door and found the room was utterly destroyed. Furniture lay all around, cups and vases were in pieces on the floor, the curtains and pillows ripped to shreds... As if a wild animal had been set loose.
Grigori crept to the middle of the room, trying to be as still as possible. He heard a noise in the darkest corner. As he drew near, he saw his Master sitting on the floor. His face was hidden in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Grigori stopped a few paces from him and got down to his knees.

"Master, what has happened?"

No answer came. Grigori thought about what could have triggered this savagery.

The girl is with the Nephilim for now; it is a setback but nothing too bad. It must be Gabriël.

"Master, is it the Archangel? Has something happened to Gabriël?"

Still no reaction.

"Are we discovered? Has Michael -?"

"Do not speak that name!" spat the Master.

Michael then. I should have known the Lord Protector had something to do with this.

"Forgive me," Grigori said, head bowed but eyes still fixed on the Prince of Hell. "Has he done something to thwart us, my Lord?"

"After all this time... he still holds on to his own lie! Clinging to a past that never was. He let his heart turn to stone rather than -" The man suddenly raised his head to look at Grigori. "Why are you here? Why are you not at the Sanctum?"

"The Countess alerted me that there was a... disturbance. They dared not enter your private rooms and called for me."

Grigori remained on the floor as his Master stood up. The figure towered over him menacingly.

"I do not require your help in everything, servant," he hissed. "Return to the Lago di Resia at once. Do not return until you see a chance to get to the girl."

Grigori got up and backed away to the door keeping his head down. He didn't want to leave the Master alone like this, but he had no choice. Bathory and Borgia were outside waiting for him.
He raised his hand before they could interrogate him, brushing past them.

"The Master had a vision. It took a heavy toll. Best leave him be for now. I shall return to my post."

They were not close enough to the Master to be trusted with his secrets, with his past. Grigori himself only knew the tip of the iceberg. All he was sure of was that his Master and the Lord Protector shared a history together. Now that the Final Battle was drawing nearer, that history might get in the way of their triumph. Grigori just hoped it would not destroy the Master. If it did, who knows what might happen?

***

The room restored itself with a wave of his hand. Furniture stood upright again. Broken pieces of porcelain and earthwork were repaired. The curtains and pillows stitched themselves up. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
He closed off the entrance to his room to not be disturbed. Even if Grigori was his most trusted man, who would not dare to utter a single word to another, it pained him that he had shown weakness in front of his subordinates. This, he would not allow again.
The Master of the Circles of Hell dropped his ripped clothes on the floor. He walked naked to his bed. A mist surrounded him as he lay down. What he had witnessed through Gabriël had left him stunned. And angry. So terribly angry. Michael had told lies to the other Archangels. This was apparent. But that he had begun to believe his own lie was the greatest insult.
And then there was his confession to Gabriël. But that didn't really matter to one who had once been an Archangel himself. Nor would it to Gabriël. Not really. They both knew what they needed to know. As he lay on his bed, the Archangel called to him.

***

Gabriël felt the heavy mist surround his mind again. He was resolved to get out of this prison. Even if it meant asking the Devil himself for help.

"You have your answer then?" a voice spoke.

"I do," said Gabriël. "You were right. About everything, it would seem."

"I know it's not what you wanted. You hoped Michael could not be as... depraved as I made him out to be. And yet -"

"You said you could get me out of here," Gabriël interrupted. "How?"

"My, my, aren't we impatient."

"Joan's in danger. Will you help me or not?"

"Of course I will. But first, I must know how far you are willing to go. You are clearly willing to leave the Vale and forfeit your wings if it comes to that. But I'm afraid I'm going to need more than that."

Another voice in his head cautioned Gabriël to be careful. Even if the man used to be his friend and brother-in-arms, he was now a demon. The most powerful one in all the Nine Circles. This alone warranted caution.

Whatever I do, I mustn't forget who I am. Michael may have lost my friendship, but I will do nothing to harm God's cause or the other angels.

"I will do what is necessary to save my family," he said firmly, hoping it would be enough.

"Hmm, we shall see," said the voice. "Now, the plan to get you out of here is simple. I will lend you some of my powers. With them, you can escape your cell and go down to Earth."

"What kind of powers?" asked Gabriël.

"You'll see. They will be at your disposal for only a few hours, so I suggest you hurry."

"And then what?"

"Go to where the river flows into the Sea of the Dead. I will meet you there."

Gabriël had not forgotten what this former Archangel had looked like when he had still been one of them. He couldn't help but wonder if those fair features had been kept after centuries in the Circles.

"Who will stand before me there? The demon that has tormented me these past weeks? Or the man whom I once knew as LightBringer?"

"I am still he, Gabriël. Though that name is somewhat misplaced now, I believe."

"Vow to me then that you will bring me to Joan and help me keep her safe from anyone who dares harm her, including Michael. If the slightest hint of LightBringer is left within you, you will say the words. Even if you are a Fallen Angel and consumed by darkness, you can still make that vow at least."

"If it will set you at ease. However... I shall also require your vow - an oath of fealty as it were."

"You cannot ask me to betray God!" Gabriël was taken aback at the mere thought of it.

"Are you saying you are truly still loyal after all Michael has done to you?"

"No, but -"

"It's a small price to pay for what I offer you, Gabriël. When bound to me, you will also fall under my protection. No demon will be allowed to touch you. But if you really want to risk being on your own with both the Heavens and the Circles coming after you, go ahead. I will still help you break out of here, for I promised you I would, but I will do no more after that. Let's see how long you last out in the real world."

Damn it all, he's right. Michael won't stop coming after us, and LightBringer is the only one who can order the demons to leave us alone. I have no choice but to make this devil's pact.

"Do we have an accord?" asked LightBringer.

May the Lord forgive me.

Gabriël approached the figure that had taken form in the mist. As he reached out, shadows entangled his arm. His skin burned underneath their touch. He hissed at the pain and turned his arm. A golden tattoo shone above his wrist. 

Gabriël stared at it, dumbstruck and eyes wide. He had forgotten all about the usually invisible rune. God had branded his Archangels with a symbol representing their strength and task. It served as a reminder of their duty. Of who they were.
Gabriël had been named as His Messenger and Guardian of the Western Winds. Water was his element, where he found his strength. Mortals prayed to him for mercy and peace. If he saw the rune now, it only meant one thing – he had fallen to the darkness. He had allowed it to take hold of him and failed in his divine task. There was no way back from this.

"The Almighty and the Lord Protector are the ones who pose a threat to you, Gabriël." LightBringer shrouded the mark in darkness. "You owe them nothing. Now, let us begin. You first."

"Ego... Ego voto, quod ero fidelis vobis. Gladium meum et ministerium ego pignus super vos. Ego erit solum dimitti a iuramento per mortem vel verbum tuum. Hoc est Sacramentum."

The burning sensation of the rune disappeared. Gabriël felt oddly relieved. As if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Pro Iuramento, offero praesidio ad te, et Ioanna Arcensis." LightBringer's voice echoed through the mist. "Quis est, qui nocet, erit pati dolorem. Hoc meum votum."

Gabriël felt a power surge within him. His senses sharpened. The bruises on his skin healed instantly. He felt reborn. Even through the thick fog, Gabriël could see LightBringer's eyes glistening. It almost seemed like they were smiling.

"It is done."

***

Joan felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She cried out, doubling over on the floor. She could faintly hear Olympe's voice calling out for help. Somebody held her and tried to rouse her, but the pain was too great. The claws of darkness gripped her tightly and pulled her in. Before she lost consciousness, she saw his face.
Angelic.
Fragile.
Lost.