The world was dark and damp, lit only by silver moonlight. Frigid winds rushed like restless spirits, moving with a musical rhythm. Silence reigned supreme, while life was but a distant whisper.
Cracked and ruined, the earth had taken a dark hue, as if it separated the living from the dead...
Beside the blackened shore surged a vast silver river. From afar, it resembled rushing water, but it was anything but. The River of Screams flowed with the souls of the damned, their wails swallowed by the endless current.
Held within the River of Screams were those who were judged by Azrael herself, yet judgement wasn’t without mercy. Sins were, after all, synonymous with repentance.
By her grace, every so often, a wisp would escape from the flood of screaming souls and drift towards the silver moon high above.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Footsteps echoed through the Realm of Death, ringing across the desolate world. They continued, the sound dimming as the figure moved closer to their destination.
At the river’s edge stood a lone silver table, its legs submerged within the current while its polished surface remained untouched by the torrent.
Seated at the table was a woman of breathtaking beauty. Her hair was long, spilling over her shoulders into the river, yet it was still dry.
The river parted in two around her hair, afraid of tainting its angel. Even in unimaginable agony, the river remembered who its owner was.
Azrael lowered her book and turned towards the intruder, an angel much like her.
"Abaddon."
His name rolled off Azrael’s tongue like bitter candy. Her face stayed impassive, silver eyes like frost over stone.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Accustomed to Azrael’s attitude, Abaddon chuckled lightly, his divine voice thundering through the realm.
"Do I need a reason to visit my bride?"
Scoffing, Abaddon folded his massive obsidian wings inwards until they disappeared into his back. The Angel of Destruction was tall, his body was built like a wall of muscle.
Stepping closer to the silver table, he waved his hand and sat upon the summoned chair.
"But that is not the reason why I came to this...infernal realm today. Rather, it’s because of our God-forsaken children."
As his sentence ended, the world suddenly went still. The River of Screams went silent, the flood of tormented souls stopping in place, gripped by an overwhelming pressure.
The howling wind dwindled to a whisper, brushing against the two angels. Even Abaddon himself had gone absolutely still, his hollow onyx eyes frigid.
Azrael stared at her supposed groom, a mixture of feelings clawing at her heart. On one side, there was the fact that Abaddon was the only person she would willingly talk to, with a few exceptions. But on the other hand...there was her vow...
"I heard. Perseus and what was his name...River? Yes, River have arrived."
Abaddon nodded.
"The game is about to start for the final time. The treaty is about to be over. Hopefully we’ll strike before the Fallen...and if not..."
"All we can do is prepare our children."
A flash of melancholy flashed across Azrael’s face, paired with grief.
"Ah, those poor kids, dragged into hell because of our war."
Azrael stood up, her raven hair trailing behind her. She stepped into the frozen River of Screams, feet gently dipping in silver water.
"They need more time, Azrael. On Father’s name, they’re children!"
Frustration was evident in his tone, yet frustration alone was useless.
"Yet time is the only thing we lack."
Staring at the silver moon above, Azrael sighed deeply, then she turned around to stare at her groom.
"I’ll go meet with Lucifer and Ezekiel; maybe I can convince them to give us more time."
A flash of hatred passed behind Abaddon’s onyx eyes, a rare phenomenon for the usually stoic angel.
"Lucifer...that damn woman. Let me go instead; I’ve got unfinished business with her anyway."
Azrael smiled, recalling fond memories. She was sure Abaddon would beg to differ.
"Absolutely not, I’m going, and that’s final. In the meantime, go visit your family and tell Israfel to do the same."
A solemn look passed through Azrael’s face.
"War is almost upon us."
And just like that, unknown to Helix and Alexander, their destinies had been decided.
**
"Are you sure you’re going to be okay, sweetie pie? I can help you if you want."
The woman’s face was distraught with worry, gray hair draped over her eyes.
That was Helix’s mother, also known as Cassandra Abaddon. His mother was currently fawning all over him, patting him head to toe, then pulling him in a tight hug.
"Can’t...breathe."
"Ah! I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?!"
Pushing him away, his mother stared at him with wide eyes, though they were hidden behind her gray hair.
As soon as I get her off me...
It was proving to be a hard challenge.
Helix would have to meet with his siblings after this, and given their...tendencies, it was bound to be a headache.
Not that he minded it. Having a loving family was a blessing that not many have.
Shaking the thoughts away, Helix pulled away from his mother, who, despite being so much older than him, was acting like a child.
"Oh, look at my baby, all grown up. You’re about to awaken your bloodline. Mama knows you’ll make her proud. You’re her sweetie pie, the best in the world."
Yeah, no, this is too embarrassing.
Why would she do this in public? In front of his friends, no less!
The Seraphic Families, as they were called—Israfel, Abaddon and Azrael—were gathered in the head church of the coalition, a holy place dedicated to serving the Angels of Light.
Every year on the Day of Light, the first of January, all over the world, children of the age of 17 would awaken their bloodlines.
Alexander and Willow were with him, their families standing beside them.
One week since that incident, and here we are, acting as if everything is fine.
But it wasn’t, and they all knew that.
His father wasn’t present, saying he had important business to attend to, and for a man as obsessed as his father, it probably meant that whatever he was doing, it was of grave importance.
Helix wondered what it was, but he pushed his thoughts aside. Standing before him was his brother, a person he longed to meet.
After all, he had played as Morgan Abaddon.