"Why?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Hoping to exorcize a few more of my guys?"
"Well . . . yeah."
He snickered. "I'd apologize for making it harder for you, but I'm not sorry. It's better this way."
"If you say so."
"I do," he said. "It's a hassle having them prematurely sent back down before their work is done, but it isn’t as bad as it could be. It's rare what you do, you know, expelling them without damaging the vessel. Makes it easier for my guys to find human shells when they make it back on Earth. Once possessed, easily repossessed."
"They're people, not vessels," Serah said. "Innocent people, who don't deserve to be hurt in this war you're waging. My brother taught me how to spare the human, to save them from your kind."
"Ah, your brother. Have you found him yet?"
"No."
"Have you even really looked?"
Serah hesitated. "No."
"Why?" Lucifer asked.
It was a question she wasn't sure how to answer. "We don't question things."
"I do."
She laughed dryly. "And look what happened to you."
"Yeah, but that's because they took my fall personally. It's business as usual for Michael with the others."
Those words washed through Serah, surprising her. "Michael?"
"What, you don't know your lover is the one who does the clipping? Only an angel can kill another angel, remember? It's Michael's destiny. Punish anything that disobeys. They step out of line and. . ." Lucifer held his hand up, using his fingers to imitate scissors. ". . .snip, snip."
She blinked rapidly. "Samuel?"
Lucifer stared through the gate at her, something startlingly close to sympathy shining from his dark eyes. "Yes. Samuel, too."
Something twisted inside of her, a tight knot where her stomach should've been. Michael had been the one to remove Samuel's Grace, to tear her brother from her life, and he showed not an ounce of concern about it. There was no conflict, no remorse or regret.
Michael hadn't just lost a friend. He'd personally ended one.
"How is it you two are together and you don't even know what he does?"
"You're mistaken," she whispered.
"I'm not," he said certainly. "I was an Archangel, too. I know our purpose."
"So you do know," she said, briefly closing her eyes as that reality sunk in. "You know where my brother is. You know what happened to him."
She glanced over again, desperation shining from her eyes, only to find the other side of the gate suddenly empty.
Serah fluttered around in a daze the next day, avoiding Michael as she halfheartedly occupied herself with tedious work. She went to the gate in the evening, her mind full of questions she anxiously wanted to ask. She expected Lucifer to be waiting as usual, but the other side of the barrier was vacant.
An hour passed. Then two. She called out his name, but he never appeared. After three hours, she gave up and walked away.
The next afternoon was the same, as was the one after it. A week passed in a similar fashion with no sign of Lucifer. No matter how long she stood there, waiting, hollering for him, he didn't show his face again.
Confusion rocked her foundation, fueled that Friday when she sat alone on the school playground, watching the children play. Nicki and her best friend leaned against a tree a few yards away, huddled up in coats, sharing a bucket of crayons as they drew in notebooks on their laps. A pop of electricity vibrated the air in front of her swing as a Dominion appeared, blocking Serah's view of the kids. "You haven't fulfilled your task."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"I expect nothing," he said. "But He expects you to succeed."
"It’s impossible," she said. "He won’t cooperate."
"Make him."
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
The Dominion shrugged. "Get creative. It’s your destiny, Serah."
Serah scowled. Bitterness seeped through her cool skin, seizing part of her insides, twisting and yanking, tying her in knots. The Dominion tipped his head in polite greeting before leaving just as suddenly as he’d come.
Message received.
"Destiny-schmestiny," she muttered, digging her toes into the dirt beneath her.
"Destiny is everything."
She spun around, startled, and came face-to-face with Michael lurking nearby. His face was hardened, not a hint of emotion to be found. "I didn't hear you appear."
"I was here before you."
Her brow furrowed. What? "I didn't sense you."
"Your senses might need fine tuning then."
Serah said nothing. She turned away from him, her focus going back to the ground. Michael strolled around to the front of the swings and stood there, making no move to sit, but he showed no sign of leaving, either.
"Your attachment to this place, to these people, is unhealthy. It concerns me."
"They were special to Samuel," she said. "You do remember him, don't you? He was once your friend."
"Of course I remember him," Michael said, his tone clipped. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Did you remember it when you took his wings?" she asked, anger brewing inside of her. "Did you forget you were friends when you destroyed him?"
"Well . . . yeah."
He snickered. "I'd apologize for making it harder for you, but I'm not sorry. It's better this way."
"If you say so."
"I do," he said. "It's a hassle having them prematurely sent back down before their work is done, but it isn’t as bad as it could be. It's rare what you do, you know, expelling them without damaging the vessel. Makes it easier for my guys to find human shells when they make it back on Earth. Once possessed, easily repossessed."
"They're people, not vessels," Serah said. "Innocent people, who don't deserve to be hurt in this war you're waging. My brother taught me how to spare the human, to save them from your kind."
"Ah, your brother. Have you found him yet?"
"No."
"Have you even really looked?"
Serah hesitated. "No."
"Why?" Lucifer asked.
It was a question she wasn't sure how to answer. "We don't question things."
"I do."
She laughed dryly. "And look what happened to you."
"Yeah, but that's because they took my fall personally. It's business as usual for Michael with the others."
Those words washed through Serah, surprising her. "Michael?"
"What, you don't know your lover is the one who does the clipping? Only an angel can kill another angel, remember? It's Michael's destiny. Punish anything that disobeys. They step out of line and. . ." Lucifer held his hand up, using his fingers to imitate scissors. ". . .snip, snip."
She blinked rapidly. "Samuel?"
Lucifer stared through the gate at her, something startlingly close to sympathy shining from his dark eyes. "Yes. Samuel, too."
Something twisted inside of her, a tight knot where her stomach should've been. Michael had been the one to remove Samuel's Grace, to tear her brother from her life, and he showed not an ounce of concern about it. There was no conflict, no remorse or regret.
Michael hadn't just lost a friend. He'd personally ended one.
"How is it you two are together and you don't even know what he does?"
"You're mistaken," she whispered.
"I'm not," he said certainly. "I was an Archangel, too. I know our purpose."
"So you do know," she said, briefly closing her eyes as that reality sunk in. "You know where my brother is. You know what happened to him."
She glanced over again, desperation shining from her eyes, only to find the other side of the gate suddenly empty.
Serah fluttered around in a daze the next day, avoiding Michael as she halfheartedly occupied herself with tedious work. She went to the gate in the evening, her mind full of questions she anxiously wanted to ask. She expected Lucifer to be waiting as usual, but the other side of the barrier was vacant.
An hour passed. Then two. She called out his name, but he never appeared. After three hours, she gave up and walked away.
The next afternoon was the same, as was the one after it. A week passed in a similar fashion with no sign of Lucifer. No matter how long she stood there, waiting, hollering for him, he didn't show his face again.
Confusion rocked her foundation, fueled that Friday when she sat alone on the school playground, watching the children play. Nicki and her best friend leaned against a tree a few yards away, huddled up in coats, sharing a bucket of crayons as they drew in notebooks on their laps. A pop of electricity vibrated the air in front of her swing as a Dominion appeared, blocking Serah's view of the kids. "You haven't fulfilled your task."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"I expect nothing," he said. "But He expects you to succeed."
"It’s impossible," she said. "He won’t cooperate."
"Make him."
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
The Dominion shrugged. "Get creative. It’s your destiny, Serah."
Serah scowled. Bitterness seeped through her cool skin, seizing part of her insides, twisting and yanking, tying her in knots. The Dominion tipped his head in polite greeting before leaving just as suddenly as he’d come.
Message received.
"Destiny-schmestiny," she muttered, digging her toes into the dirt beneath her.
"Destiny is everything."
She spun around, startled, and came face-to-face with Michael lurking nearby. His face was hardened, not a hint of emotion to be found. "I didn't hear you appear."
"I was here before you."
Her brow furrowed. What? "I didn't sense you."
"Your senses might need fine tuning then."
Serah said nothing. She turned away from him, her focus going back to the ground. Michael strolled around to the front of the swings and stood there, making no move to sit, but he showed no sign of leaving, either.
"Your attachment to this place, to these people, is unhealthy. It concerns me."
"They were special to Samuel," she said. "You do remember him, don't you? He was once your friend."
"Of course I remember him," Michael said, his tone clipped. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Did you remember it when you took his wings?" she asked, anger brewing inside of her. "Did you forget you were friends when you destroyed him?"
