[BOOK TWO]
"Anniversaries to some are like counting the years spent doing something great, years spent together, or years spent alive." I started slowly, voice dropping to a drawl as I peeked cautiously out of my bedroom blinds, scanning the road to...
LUCIUS POUNDED HIS good fist against the wood of the table in his study, his face flushed red with anger as the nearby angels flinched slightly from the sound itself. There weren't as many angels left after the battle as there were when it had just started; a good portion of angels had passed on tragically due to heavy injuries during the fight. Some others had decided to descend to the world of Earth, to live out their immortal lives away from godly battles.
The wounds on Lucius' face was not as forgiving, however. A sharp line made its way through his right eyebrow, slicing a thin welt across the hairs even as he furrowed them. When he moved the injured side of his face too much, the wounds only reminded Lucius of what he had lost to Death once more. He gritted his teeth in anger, fury seething through his pores.
"The girl is dead, Lucius, brother. Death will be unable to wed her. He will no longer obtain the god-like powers in which the marriage would guarantee him. By the time she is reborn, we would have already taken him down, burned all of Hell into a crisp dust and let Heaven rule once more." Some of the angels cheered behind Jonah, clapping loudly as Jonah beamed with pride.
Of course he did. After all, he was the one that had sent the arrow flying towards Addison Pilediah. Granted, he was aiming for Death himself, but the former did end things pretty well on the angels' part. Without Addison, the angels stand another chance to take Death down. If they had wed, who knows of the power in which Death would wield. He would be able to bend mountains, command winds and manipulate the seas. He would be as powerful as God himself.
"Yes indeed. The girl is dead," Lucius muttered under his breath, his head pounding with thoughts and new plans as he settled back into his chair. When he looked back up towards his soldiers, the glint of the morning sun caught his eye. "Tell me. What were my direct orders, Jonah?"
The older man stilled, his fingers scratching the scruff on his chin as the seconds ticked by. Other than the soft breathing of the angels, the study room was quiet. No one dared to speak up against Lucius.
Why? Because he was a revolution. He was the future of the angels, the voice above all voices. He was their new leader, their new captain, their new god.
"Does no one remember my orders?" Lucius asked, slowly standing up. He pushed himself off the chair using both strong arms. With feet nearly floating, moving against the wood of the floor, Lucius reached for the decorative swords hung just behind the table. "If no one remembers, I want everyone out of the room. There is no need for me to talk to anyone of you. Except you, Jonah. Brother, please, stay and have a drink with me."
Understanding the subtle undertones to his words, the cowardly angels all fled the room, stumbling and pushing past one another in order to get out. The room was emptied within seconds, leaving just Jonah and Lucius.
With all the calmness in the world, Lucius placed two glasses on the table before gently pouring the brown liquid of bourbon into the glass nearest to himself. Jonah watched in silence, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed down a bile in his throat.
"My orders, Jonah, was to keep the girl safe at all costs. She was to never leave the cottage because she was never supposed to set foot in the battle. And what did you do? You shot a poisoned arrow into her flesh before fleeing like a coward when Death and his brothers tried to take revenge. I thought you were braver than that, Jonah. I really did."
"Brother, is the girl not better dead? She would not live a happy life as Death's queen." Jonah tried to argue, taking a step closer to Lucius.
"She was never meant to be Death's queen in my plans, Jonah." Lucius' fingers glided across the metal blade of the sword as if admiring its fine craftsmanship. "She was meant to be mine!"
In a swift movement, Lucius swiped the blade across Jonah's neck, slicing his head clean off the body in one flick. As it was too quick to dodge; Jonah met the end of his fate there and then.
Grabbing the severed head by the hair, Lucius hovered the body part over the second glass, allowing the blood to drip freely from the dead man's neck towards the glass cup. Once it was half-way full like how one would pour a nice cup of brandy, the blond angel carelessly tossed the head of his dead right-hand man over his shoulders, allowing it to bounce against the wood of the floor before stopping on an expensive rug. The blood seeped into the fabric, but Lucius took no care. In fact, he couldn't even care less that his own sanity was slipping through his own fingers with each passing second.
Raising his own glass of bourbon high into the air, a small grim smile appeared by the crook of his lips. Lucius tilted his chin upwards, a fierce glint of determination forming in his caramel brown eyes.
"Toast to you, brother. To the world in which you've sacrificed your life for. To the mistakes you've made and the corrections you've done. And to the new world which you will not live to see. To my victory."
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Might as well complete this book so I can post the description for the next asap. 🌞 I'm impatient like that.
