Knockin' on Heaven's Door
Twelve… there were twelve in the beginning. Twelve archangels, each in charge of one kingdom. Any of which below the tenth being a lower kingdom. That was before the twelfth Archangel ended his own rule with a fatal mistake. What was the mistake? No one remembered, nor did they care. If you sin against the Creator, the reason is without importance. But there must be a ruler. A lower section of the Heavenly kingdoms is not important enough for the other higher angels to care. Demoted to a mere mortal-like existence, corruption and earth traditions seeped through our realm. Angels began to practice using worldly pleasures such as money, marriage, and producing generations. I am from the first generation of angels born from angels within the twelfth tier. I recall my father explaining the fall of our kind, how we are forced to remain in this in-between world of heaven and earth mixed. I was intrigued.
I studied our past, what we should have been. We would not get anywhere if our kingdom remained disorganized, loathsome with the human characteristics. I took it upon myself as an adolescent to begin the revolution. I read much of the different political systems the mortals used in the Holy Word. Kings stood out to me, but I took my inspiration from Manasseh, a good and just man who merely approached his rule in the wrong way. The solution became clear. I must take up this role of king and govern my people. That is when I came to power. By the time I was a young man, I became king, through a vote of the people. The only thing I did not find pleasure in was the insistence that I find a wife. I picked out a young girl and married her shortly after. She was pregnant only once, but the baby was revealed to be a girl, which posed no threat to my rule. I’ve renewed heaven ever since, building up my army, preparing for the ultimate rule, taking what I deserve and becoming greater than even the Creator, piece by piece. The people below me have no power nor influence.
My child, the only child I have, I banished from heaven when she was young. I do not recall the age. Her wings, when they emerged, were not like ours. She was a demon, sent from hell to plague me, those red, bloody wings attached to her back. Such wings had never been seen before, and I could not risk losing my power due to a fluke of nature. The Queen has never shared my viewpoint, neither about the abnormalities of her daughter, nor of my planned revolution. I have successfully poisoned her steadily to keep her locked away, and I am confident she will not last much longer, despite her power. There is only one possibility through which it is capable for me to lose my throne. I am finding out the likelihood and answers to this problem now.
He lay down the pen, leaving the journal pages open with a sudden pounding on the chamber door. “Enter.”
He came in, armor clinking as his blue eyes peered at his superior. He kneeled, head bowed. “Sir.”
“Captain. What news have you?”
Will allowed his head to straighten, followed by the rest of his body. He took time to analyze the king, knowing his report would not last long. The ruler was cold, merciless, driven mad with power. Perhaps that was why he appeared to be so old, hardened features of his face making him appear as stone.
“The queen is near death,” Will stated flatly, hating himself for such monotone sounds after such grievous news.
“I see. Unfortunate.” His majestic robes rustled as he watched the man’s eyes.
“Yes, my Lord,” he ground out through his teeth, bile rising in his throat with the use of the esteemed title.
“And what of my dear daughter? Are the rumors I hear throughout the kingdom true?”
“They are. Selene Vlaxen is to be married. The ceremony itself is taking place as we speak.” A bitterness stirred in the male angel’s heart. He had promised himself he would be there, but found himself tied by this dictator. How could he let down his best friend?
“If she is married, there will be conflict with heaven’s future. We cannot allow that to happen.” Using a single finger, he motioned for Will to step closer, as he opened a window to view the movement of the citizens below. “Look at them, William.”
He did as he was told, but wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was looking for. “The people, sir?” he asked dumbly, never flinching from his position.
“Aren’t they all happy like this? They’ll be even happier soon. Soon they will all be renewed.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We will all be higher than any kingdom. We will be the definition of heaven itself, William. We will be higher than the Creator. And you’re going to lead my army.”
“A-army, sir?” Will asked, not minding the formalities so much now, the reference of the army pressing at his heart.
“Yes. We must not let my daughter threaten the revolution when we are so close to the end results. We are perfect, Will. We must regain it and retain it, for all eternity. She will come. After she is married, her husband and I will be fighting for the kingdom. William, we cannot allow outsiders to take over, not now. We will fight.” He began to guide the captain out of the room, hands firm upon the armored shoulders.
“But, but we don’t have to fight. She’s your daughter!” Will responded in desperation as he stumbled down the long flights of steps that led both the Queen and King’s chambers. He would rather have his wings sawed off than hurt the woman he once loved. "She's not doing anything to anyone on earth! Can't we just let her be?"
“No. She’s a demonic figure that tortures me. And it’s about time I rid myself of that. Go and gather the army. Tell them we’re at war.” He pushed Will out the gateway, facing him with a hand on each door.
“War?” This was too much for Will. How would Selene possibly survive after the entire army of heaven was being sent after her?
“Oh, and tell them there will be no survivors.” The doors shut.
~--------On Earth--------~
She groaned inside the cramped bathroom, holding back the huge frills of the gorgeous, puffy dress, leaning over the porcelain sink. She coughed a few times and looked at herself in the mirror. A whole net of butterflies had been set loose in her stomach, flipping and knotting it around her, but she hadn’t thought it would make her get sick, and only minutes before the wedding, too. Thank goodness for toothpaste. She had brought the tube and her toothbrush as well, just in case. She somehow knew it could happen, since it had been happening more and more often with the approaching of that crucial moment. She never did deal well with pressure, but the constant churning and nausea was difficult to bear. It began to settle a bit as she spit and rinsed, analyzing herself again in the mirror.
A pity she didn’t have any bridesmaids on her side to help hold back her dress. Despite the lack of her family and friends attending the wedding, she told Zorlo she wanted it as normal as possible, like he had explained to her. She never did find out who his best man was, but she had told him over and over again as the date drew nearer that he needed to find out and tell her.
Surprises were not a good thing on her wedding day. She could hardly breathe with the mix of sweet perfume and tight chest portion of her dress, a surprise in itself. She could hardly believe she was about to marry him. After so long, so much planning and that engagement, she just hoped everything would go well. No distractions, no disruptions, just a clean, wonderful wedding. Then she recalled who she was marrying. There went that idea.
As far as the reception went, there was a vast amount of different tastes, including dessert wines, juices, and of course, an assortment of sodas and water. Hopefully she had catered to everyone's tastes. With Zorlo being so busy, Selene had taken most of the responsibility of the planning of her own wedding. The cake she had checked on earlier and she knew that was fine. A mixture of chocolate on one side and vanilla the other, she chose a rather simple pattern of white icing and red roses, the intertwining icing trails along it forcing her to restrain herself from eating it the first time she saw it. She made sure to get a five layer cake, expensive, but enough hopefully to feed all the guests, of which she had no doubt would be quite numerous. She couldn’t count the people Zorlo knew. So many people to visit the groom’s side, while the bride’s remained empty… almost empty.
She stared into the mirror, recalling the one person she had invited personally. Shaking her head, she began to primp herself. Very little makeup dotted her face, although a bit of mascara and blush never hurt anyone, with a touch of sparkly lipgloss for good measure. A wedding was something you didn't get to do twice in your life, right? Might as well try to make it as special as possible.
Though very tight and strapless from her chest to her waist, below that, her wedding gown looked like a snow-capped mountain, beginning vast at her feet so her high heels could not be seen, and ending coming to a pearl-beaded point where a single long ribbon choker held it around her neck. A long trail of her veil dragged behind her at a length of at least four feet. She hoped she didn’t trip like she had when she had practiced. She made sure the ponytail of her hair was tight, two small, pretty strands of her hair framing her face beyond the shield of the lacy veil. She positioned it correctly, releasing a small breath to glance at the boquet of red roses. Wouldn’t be long now, no, not long at all. Most of the people should be seated or greeting Zorlo by this time, leaving her to suffocate in this flytrap dress of death.