Theme 7: Heaven

They cast me aside.

They broke their promises. They used me until I was no longer convenient and then I was discarded. But I will not be quietly resigned to my fate. I will make them pay.

My life began simply, as a proud samurai warrior serving my lord. When he fell in battle, I thought to join him, but Heaven had other plans. I was approached by a Seraph, a divine arbiter who offered me a choice. I could end my life now, stained as it was with the blood of the innocent and the guilty alike, or I could work for her. Either way, she said, I would die. The only variables were time and how much good I could do for the world first. I took her offer.

I traded my dou-maru for the protection of divine fire, the latent power of my own soul made manifest and amplified by the Seraph's gift. She sent down a pair of Principalities to instruct me in the use of my new-found power and school me in the laws I was now sworn to uphold.

Only the most effective of killers can become a Warden's Hunter. Only a mortal already so bathed in blood as to be beyond ordinary redemption can be offered the chance to turn that deadly instinct to divine purpose and in fulfilling that mandate find salvation. And what a killer was I.

My daisho shattered in the struggle with my first Edict-breaker. I wrenched the pitchfork from the demon's hand and destroyed his mortal shell with his own infernal weapon. And it is that weapon I still wield to this day. It is not the primitive hay fork of human folklore. My weapon is sleek and built for battle. Forged with cunning artifice by the techno-gremlins of the pit. Black steel prongs, carbon-nanotube haft, and a blood red jewel where the prongs meet the haft that glows as it drinks in the life-energy of my foes when they fall. It is a good weapon, a delicious irony when used to slay a demon. And on the rare occasion one of the Celestials breaks an Edict, well. . .it does what it was built to do.

For six hundred years I served my heavenly master. For six hundred years I killed who they told me to kill. For six hundred years, I was their faithful tool.

Until now. After six centuries of loyal service, I am now told my services are no longer required thanks to an "incident" that occurred relatively recently. And the Metatron has reneged on his offer of entry into Heaven.

But the Fallen and the Host are the same basic beings. There is one thing I have been trained to do very well over the past six hundred years. And that is to kill angels.

Tonight, for the first time since the Rebellion, there shall be sorrow in Paradise. And I shall be its author.

I haven't written in a while

My family home here in Kokomo seems to have a detrimental effect on my ability to write. I felt like doing a little cast page for the Graphic Novel project I've been working on with Whitney. So, a brief and spoiler-free cast list follows. This may get a little repetitive since I'll be including some general terms as well as specifics. As I write this it seems to become more of an explanation of how the supernatural order of this world is organized. Which is good, I think.
-The Drewcifer

Warden Angel: Often shortened simply to "Warden." An angel charged with policing the actions of Outsiders on Earth. Technically both angels and demons are capable of holding the position of Warden.

Demon Hunter/Demon Slayer: A mortal agent of an angelic Warden. These individuals have lives steeped in violence and pain. Many of them are only good at causing death. As such, they find salvation by directing their killing towards a righteous purpose. Well versed in the Celestial Edicts and merciless when dealing with those who break them, Demon Hunters are rightly feared by unsavory Outsiders. Because of the energies their bodies are infused with, Demon Hunters are capable of living forever if not killed.

Outsiders: A collective term for any supernatural creature that walks the Earth, especially ones the the Wardens and Demon Slayers are charged with policing. This includes Demons, Chimeras, and others. The Fae are, to some extent, considered Outsiders. However, they lie outside the jurisdiction of both Heaven and Hell. Since Outsider is generally a term reserved for those bound by the Celestial Edicts, the Fae are often considered to be in a category all their own.

Celestial Edicts: The laws and regulations that govern creatures of both Heaven and Hell. Contrary to what most mortals will believe upon first learning the of their existence, the Edicts do not favor angels over demons, nor do demons disobey the Edicts. The Edicts are distinct from the Laws of Heaven. The Laws of Heaven include relevant portions of the Celestial Edicts, but have many rules and regulations not covered in the Edicts. It is for rebelling against these laws that angels are cast out of Heaven and become demons.

Chimera: A subclass of Outsider, specifically a supernatural creature of limited intelligence. Though smarter than normal mortal animals, these creatures cannot be called sentient. Feral Chimera which are discovered by Demon Slayers are generally executed on the spot, to prevent them from potentially harming a mortal. All Chimera are bestial, though not all are quadrupedal. More intelligent Outsiders will sometimes create or import them as pets. According to the Edicts, both the Chimera and its owner are responsible for any breeches of the Edicts the Chimera may commit.

Fae: The Faeries, Fairies, Fair Folk, and many other names. These creatures are as varied as they are mysterious. Not fully bound by the Celestial Edicts, yet not fully outside of them, the Fae add a chaotic and unpredictable aspect to anything they are involved with.

Meriel: Meriel is an angel. A servant of God, Adonai, the Name, or whatever euphemism is your favorite. She is one of several (but relatively few) Wardens: angels charged with policing the actions of Outsiders on Earth. She began delegating this duty near the beginning of the first century CE. Demon Slayers sponsored by Meriel take on names which are ordinal forms of latin numbers (Primus, Secundus, Tertius, etc). She is currently on her sixth hunter.

Sextus: Meriel's current Demon Slayer. His past is shrouded in mystery, even more so than your average Demon Slayer. He wears a half mask that conceals the right half of his face at all times. His sword is chained to his wrist, and there are various locks on his clothing. All-in-all more unusual than even his peers, who are a strange lot to begin with. The power he wields manifests itself as golden motes which coalesce into different shapes and structures as he desires.

Quintus: The previous hunter employed by Meriel. After a series of complicated events, he has resigned his mantle as a Demon Slayer, preferring to retire to a quiet life, though he still struggles with a certain darkness he picked up during his career as a slayer. Quintus's power manifest as "soulfire," blue flame which burns only that which Quintus desires it to. Though he has retired, Meriel still keeps a wary eye on Quintus. She regards him as something of a loose cannon.

Harlequenne: A Fae, sublcass Pixie. This mischievous trickster hangs out with Sextus. No one is sure why.

Anne-Marie Thompson: A Private Investigator and an "Interpreter"-class psychic. Anne-Marie has second sight that allows her to distinguish Outsiders from normal mortals. She helps Sextus gather information and identify Edict-breakers. She is also in love with Sextus.

Mixed Nuts

I break my silence not with words, but with sounds and pictures. Only there is a catch. I provide the raw material, you must process it. Ready? Okay, let us begin.

* * *

You can feel it. A place just out of reach. Somewhere you long to be, yet suspect you will never see. Heaven is a place of dreams, but dreams can become nightmares oh so easily. Don't trip, you might Fall. It's very, very bad to Fall.

Speak not to me of things Heaven-sent. For they have sent me and have sent to me. Neither do I much care for. But that is not true. This is what I do. This is who I am. I enjoy my task as I am hating it.

My name is Quintus. From the Latin meaning "fifth." I am named such because I am the fifth to fill my position. If I have my way, there will never be a Sextus. Quartus was utterly useless, his tenure being the shortest of any of my antecedents.

What is my work, you might ask. It's simple enough. Demon-hunting. Upstairs thinks that a few too many of them are straying from their designated stomping grounds. Hell, that is. Being the non-confrontational folk they are, the angels prefer to have a mortal to do their dirty work. Or at least my patron does. There are other hunters, with different angels sponsoring them. Mine's alright. Sent down a half-decent trainer to me, taught me enough not to get myself killed. It's not a bad time. You get to meet new and interesting people, then kill them. Also, if you avoid being killed, you'll live forever. But you will get killed. That's the rub of it, eh?

My weapon is a pitchfork; black, sharp, sleek, and surprisingly concealable. The whole apparatus extends from a handle and folds out at my whim. I took it from the first demon I killed. I thought him carrying it a bit cliché, but for me, with my line of work, I find the irony quite to my liking.

I've been to Hell, on Heaven's behalf. Certain power-hungry demon got the idea that if he kept mucking about in Earth business without coming to Earth, he'd be safe. Wrong idea. I brought the fight to him, that's how I got these horns. Bihuanel, Lord of Biunallum. Well, former Lord. That title actually belongs to me now. He left these horns on me as a mark. A dying "gift." No matter what I do, I'll never be fully rid of his presence, though his soul is gone and beyond repair.

One would think after what I've been through, Heaven would welcome me home with open arms, right? Wrong.

*

The last strains of the doxology ring out as the doors begin to slowly swing closed. Huge doors. Each one is easily six times my height and three times my width. The Gates of Heaven are nothing compared to the Doors to Heaven.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.

I almost turn and walk away, but I decide otherwise.

My hand snaps out and catches the door as it is about to close.

I say one word. Not loudly, not quietly. Just ordinary, as if I were talking to you right now. One word.

"No."