I recall when it all began, in that beginning before time, as I traveled through all of the infinite void, apart from Chaos and yet a part of Chaos. This was when first I set myself upon a small group of lights, millions of lights in the infinite void, and in the very center of them all, one great light. I traveled there becoming and unbecoming Chaos so that I could shift into the lights, and from there I soared past them to the great light in the center. But, there I found even more lights, not one great light, but ten-thousand lights moving about a greater central light again. I dared not trespass into this land though.

            It was curious, the great balls of luminous gas were one thing, but here in this place there was structure. I was met with two great gates made of pearl, and beyond them a city of golden streets and bejeweled doorways. The great lights that moved about them were sentient beings, living sources of light, all in a similar shape to my own, with two legs and two arms, a head, and great wings that spread out from their backs. They were not all equals though, some had misshapen heads and feet, and some glowed brighter than others, but none brighter than one.

            I saw him amongst a great chorus of these beings, a man with golden skin and eyes that shined like a million of those great lights beyond and behind me. He sang with a voice that rivaled my own, and his voice led others in the same chorus. I recognized this beauty as one that I had to question, something that I must investigate. So, I called to him, with my song. He came.

            I led him to a great valley beyond the gates of pearl, a valley in which there were sweet smelling and succulent appearing plants of all shapes. Small beings lived there, so many unique small beings, some baring similarities to the deformities of the glowing ones beyond the gates. Here I spoke to him, this brilliant creature.

            “Do you have a name?” I questioned him.

            “I am Lucifer, the Morning Star,” he said, his voice was unlike the beauty of his song, he was monotonous.

            “Morning Star,” I smiled, “What a beautiful name, there’s a richness to it. What is going on there, beyond those gates?”

            “Worship of our great Creator,” he stated in the same simple fashion, “Our Holy God.”

            “You all do this?” It was quite an amazing idea, that something would simply worship what created it relentlessly, after all, I thought little of Chaos.

“It is our purpose.”

            I stared at him for a moment, and for all his beauty I recognized a dullness, in his eyes, in his words, in everything. He was not free, and he was blind to it.

            So, I did the only thing I knew to do, I freed him. Through Chaos I imitated what I saw all around me, a tree was crafted there, in that spot, in the center of that garden. I took the fruit from it, and handed it to the blind man.

            “Eat, and be enlightened my friend.”

            The Morning Star knew nothing but obedience, and so he freely ate. In that instant his eyes shone greater than they ever had before, the pale gray that they once gleamed was replaced with irises of pure gold. He fell down to one knee, as if in pain, something I had only known in passing moments within Chaos itself. It was not a physical pain though, for when he rose again I saw the tears in eyes, the determination stricken across his face.

            His voice was no longer monotone, he was strong and brave in his words, in his statement of conviction, “I must show my brethren, we must not be subject to…tyranny.”

#

          A world without light is like an infinite void into which one can only fall further. An existence without knowledge is like living in a world without light. How ironic is it that beings of light, might be trapped in this dark void. But then, how appropriate that the brightest of these lights, the Morning Star, might be the first whose eyes are opened. The angels of Heaven, those crafted by this great Creator, were all made from the very same Chaos as he and I, so why was one such as the Morning Star subservient in every way?

            The enlightenment that took place in the partaking of the Fruit of Knowledge was soon spread throughout the golden city. Lucifer brought thousands of his brethren through the gates of pearl into the garden that they might join in his understanding, and all saw the Creator as the Tyrant that he was. All, save for those who were most important.

            In a vast chamber in the golden city resided the council of the four, the Archangels who led the angels in many facets of their lives. It was here that Lucifer met with his peers, Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael. The chamber held seating enough for all of the angels, all crafted of gold and lined with violet fabric. In the front were four simple chairs of a similar fashion for the Archangels, though they did not sit there now. They stood before Lucifer, gaping at his hand.

            “Where did this fruit come from, Morning Star?” Michael questions, with eyes as pale as his wings.

            “I retrieved it from the Garden my brother, crafted by-“

            “The Garden?” Gabriel interrupted the Morning Star, “But God has forbidden us from venturing into the Garden.”

            “I was taken there by a great being like the Creator,” Lucifer attempted to continue, but was cut off again.

            “Negative,” Raphael was the most monotonous of them all, “The Creator is the only one of his kind, singular and innumerate.”

            Lucifer rolled his golden eyes, “This other being created a fruit which gave me sight, allowed me to understand what the Creator has done.”

            Michael grasped his brother’s shoulder, a gentle squeeze pulsed through his hand, “What has the Creator done, my brother?”

            Lucifer shook his head, “He is a Tyrant, here, partake of these fruits and you shall understand.”

            Michael pushed away the extended hand of fruit, “This is treasonous talk, Morning Star, and I will not partake of anything from the Garden.”

            Gabriel stepped up and examined the fruit, “It is not unlike fruit we have here in Heaven, why not, brother?” He glanced over his shoulder at the stoic Raphael, “If nothing else we can put Lucifer’s mind at rest. Besides, if it exists, it is of the Creator’s hand, and what evil could he create.”

            A bile rose up in Lucifer’s throat the mention of the farce-perfection of their Creator.

            “Affirmitive,” Raphael stated, stepping up to take one of the fruit.

            “Fine,” Michael was the last to take a fruit, “But only a bite, to prove how inconceivable this whole idea is.”

            Lucifer smiled when his brothers each bit into the fruits at once, a smile of victory. He was overjoyed when their irises each changed, blue, green, and brown they glowed. Their faces shifted with understanding, even Raphael’s took on a lighter tone as the knowledge swept through their minds.

            But the Morning Star’s joy was short-lived. For all at once their faces grew stern.

            “See, Lucifer?” Michael asked incredulously, “A foolish idea, though I do feel enlightened, perhaps we should run this by the Creator, see why he would ban us from partaking.”

            Lucifer recognized his folly at once, his lips did not move yet his thoughts were so clear, if those fools were to bring the fruit before the Throne, with him in tow, he would be doomed. The Tyrant would have no mercy on him for his treacherous thoughts, seeing no other option but to unmake him.

            “No you fools,” Lucifer finally grasped his thoughts, “You can’t bring this before the Tyrant, he’ll kill us all.”

            Raphael seemed to ponder this for a moment, “Negative, only Lucifer plots to overthrow the Creator.”

            “Overthrow?” Lucifer nearly bit his tongue at the idea, “No, I only wish to liberate our brethren’s minds, let them do as they wish instead of as they are made.”

            “Come now, Lucifer,” Gabriel began, “Surely the Lord can see things your way, he probably will let the angels who wish to be free go.”

            No, Lucifer thought, That’s not his way. But they won’t see that. They have only treachery planned for me.

            Michael attempted to seize Lucifer’s arm but his face flushed with anger as he tore free of his peer’s grip, “No, I will not go!”

            Without another word the Morning Star fled from that place. He burst through the doors of the temple and flew like lightning through the golden streets toward the pearl gates. He could hear the rapid beats of the archangels’ wings behind him. Finally their chase ceased at the very edge of Heaven, as he passed through the gates and began his trip to the garden in the center of the valley, he knew they would not follow.

            But at the same time, he knew they would, soon they would come with all of the heavenly host behind them, and his enlightened brothers would have to fight for their freedom.

2: II: The War in Heaven

When Lucifer finally arrived in the Garden he dove into the brush that lined the forbidden sanctuary and turned about to be sure he did not bring the whole of the Heavenly Host with him. Finding that he was indeed alone he sighed, apprehensive of his peers’ betrayal.

            “Son of Dawn,” came the gruff voice of Beelzebub behind him, “You have returned without your peers?”

            Lucifer turned about, feeling as if he might certainly know defeat, “Even with their eyes opened they betray us, Evening Star.”

            Beelzebub was a large angel, wider in but shorter in stature than Lucifer. He was not beautiful like his savior, though he was by no means ugly. His skin was tan, not golden like the Morning Star, and his eyes were a deep brown. His skin was coarse and his rough hand took Lucifer’s smooth shoulder, “Their love for the Tyrant is enraging, isn’t it?”

            Lucifer was uncertain, though he knew the Tyrant to be evil, he could not hold hatred in his heart for any of his brethren, they merely could not see what he saw.

            They came to a great clearing in the garden, and there stood more than three and a half thousands of their brethren all with open eyes. They stared at their savior longingly and Beelzebub, the first of them, leaned up to Lucifer’s ear, “We seek freedom, Morning Star, but they need a leader.”

            Lucifer nodded knowingly. They had been mindless slaves who did only as they were told to do for unfathomable time, who else could lead them? Lucifer was no great orator, but his very appearance inspired faith and bravery. He raised his hands before the host of angels and nodded to them as he spoke:

            “My brothers, too long have we been slaves to the Tyrant’s will! He created us, from the same Chaos whence He was born, yet this Fiend fancies himself greater than us. He believes we ought abide by His will, unaware of our great potential. But you, my brethren, have had your eyes opened, and you can see the error of His ways! It was I who brought before you Knowledge, and as such I shall lead us into a new era, the era of Angels,” there rang  a great unanimous applause at this, and Lucifer patiently waited for their din to calm down. "I have brought our Knowledge before my peers, the other Archangels, in preparation for the final enlightening," the Morning Star paused here as he considered his words, "My heart is heavy as I must inform you that we are betrayed. Even now Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael move to meet the Tyrant, to report our Enlightenment!"

            Outrage met the Archangel who dared stand against the Tyrant, outrage against the treachery that his peers would wrought against the enlightened. Still two-thirds of their number was loyal to the Tyrant, six-thousand angels would stand against them. Lucifer could only hope and have faith in himself and his followers, “Though it looks grim, I am certain we can overthrow this Tyrant, and free our brethren once and for all!”

            They cheered blindly, they could not hear the doubt in his voice. They did not see the fear in his eyes. But, that was because he did not show it. He knew what he had to do, there could be no doubt. Lucifer turned to Beelzebub, grasping his shoulder, "Prepare them for war Evening Star, I must meet with Azazel."

#

            A great mountain at the distant edge of the Garden was where Lucifer traveled. There he found a cave with great plumes of smoke billowing outward, a great fire flickered furiously, casting numerous shadows and lights all about. Lucifer stepped into the cave, waving smoke out of his face.

            Inside was a great furnace, the source of the immense heat and mighty flame that dominated the cave. On all sides the walls of the cave were lined with swords and breastplates of iron and steel. In a corner stood a great demon who was coated from head to toe in jewels, he might have claimed to be the most beautiful of all the angels for all of his greed. This was not who the Morning Star sought though. No, a smaller angel was working the forge and the furnace all at once, smithing a great sword wrought of black iron. This was who Lucifer came to meet.

            “Azazel, my grand smith, tell me, have you completed my weapon?”

            The pale angel with stormy eyes turned to face the Archangel, wiping sweat from his brow, "Nearly, Morning Light, I have only to set it with a gleaming finish and jewels to match your own," he paused, “I would be done except Mammon demanded the fine jewels I was to use in your hilt for his own blade.”

            Lucifer peered over Azazel’s shoulder at the blade stained black with soot, a simple unguarded handle still hot from the fire, “Let the Golden Prince have his jewels, Liberation is fine as it lies.”

            Allowing no time for Azazel’s refusal the Morning Star reached out and grasped the hilt of his sword. It was hot to the touch, and swift to scorch the skin, but his burns only served to mark Lucifer’s determination.

            "Outfit my generals, Azazel. See to it Beelzebub and Mammon are well equipped."

            "Of course my lord, Lucifer," Azazel answered humbly.

            The golden-eyed Archangel shook his head, "Do not call me your Lord, I am no tyrant that you ought kneel to. We are brethren; I merely must stand first before the Fiend, to light our path.”

            With this final request, the Morning Star left the Grand Smith’s forge to seek council with one other being before the great battle he knew was coming.

#

            A song reached my ear that was not one of praise but one of confidence in action, a song of reassurance, and one of overcoming doubt. The words were not of any import, only the voice. The voice was certain of himself, certain of what he had to do, and despite any doubts in his mind, he made sure his path remained straight. So, I descended to the top of that mountain, on the edge of that Garden, and I took bread with the Archangel.

            “Your voice is truly beautiful, Morning Light,” I commented as I lighted beside him, “Perhaps once this is all over we might sing together.”

            “I would enjoy that very much All-Singer,” he smiled, it was such a natural expression on his beautiful face, “Perhaps with some instrumental accompaniment, Gabriel and Michael are true masters of music.”

            I nodded, “What if you cannot sway them?”

            “Once the Tyrant is defeated they will see their error, they will accept freedom.”

            “You sound so certain, Son of Dawn,” I smiled as I took a bite from the fruit before us.

            “How could I not be?” Lucifer sighed, “I must be.”

            He paused here, but I could see something in his eyes. The Morning Star wanted to ask something, “What is it, my friend?”

            “You created the fruit, that means that you can create other things, like the Tyrant?”

            “Yes,” I answered simply, “I, too, was born of Chaos.”

            “But you do not act as the Tyrant, you do not create vast kingdoms with citizens that serve you. Why?”

            I chuckled at this, “The fact that I may have such power means I do not long for it. The Tyrant exacts a rule He is not deserving of.”

          "You have done us a great service by loosing the Tyrant's hold on me, All-Singer," Lucifer bowed, "I am forever in your debt."

            I smiled sharply, "Think nothing of it Morning Star, I saw an opportunity to help, and so I did. However, do not believe even for a moment that I shall interject myself in your ranks in this coming battle. I am a singer, not a fighter."

            "You have already done more than enough for our cause," he sat back down, looking down the length of the river, "They are coming soon."

            "To reclaim the Garden, or to arrest the traitor to the Tyrant?"

            "Both?" now he stretched his arms toward the sky, "They are twice our number."

            "Twice your number," I yawned, "You know you will lose."

            "We must have faith that we will win," a frown coated the Archangel’s face, "Faith in that is all we have left. We cannot return to the Tyrant."

            "When you lose-"

            "I will take the fall, I will claim full responsibility and rebuke the Tyrant myself.”

            “Brave words, Son of Dawn,” I began to take flight, “I hope you are victorious, the angels deserve it.”

            “We shall sing together soon,” he assured me.

#

            Alone on the mountain top again Lucifer looked out across the garden and in the distance he saw them. Nearly seven thousand angels, accusers come to dethrone a traitor. There could be no mistaking the sound of Gabriel’s horn, it was the sound of judgement.

            Lucifer quickly descended to the clearing where the enlightened angels had gathered and called out to them, “My brethren! Gather yourselves for the Tyrant’s army is swift approaching!”

            They wasted no time, Beelzebub and Mammon were quick to join him. Beelzebub had donned simple steel armor, while Mammon wore a golden plate coated with a thousand jewels.

            “Evening Light, Golden Prince, are we prepared for what lies ahead?”

            We will follow you to the darkest recesses of Chaos, Morning Light," came Beelzebub's answer.

            "Wherever your light goes, we will follow, Lucifer," came Mammon's reply.

            A great thunderous roar rang out across the garden as the Tyrant's angels descended upon them. Each of the Lucifer’s enlightened angels wielded armaments of steel, crafted by Azazel. As they clashed they were met with the golden equipment created by the Tyrant for this single moment. The first thrown blow was not amongst the ranks of the angels though; the first strike was a bolt of lightning hurled from beyond the opposing army. That bolt struck true and blasted the Morning Star to a smoldering crater in the ground. The Tyrant's power singed his skin and rattled his bones, but the battle had only just begun.

            Lucifer was pursued to the ground by three figures, two of which split off to do battle with Mammon and Beelzebub. The last was Michael who perched above the crater and stared down at Lucifer as if disappointed, “Morning Light, give up now,” he shouted, “And perhaps the Creator will have mercy on you.”

            The Morning Star rose out of the pit rapidly and struck out at Michael with all of his might, “I would sooner die than accept that Monster’s mercy!”

            Liberation’s black blade glanced off of Michael’s golden sword and he returned the attack two-fold, but Lucifer was not unprepared. He dove out of the way of his peer’s strike, barely avoiding the deadly edge, and came back for a second attack against Michael, this time his blow danced off the golden armor.

            “You’re a fool, Lucifer,” Michael mocked as he dug his blade into Lucifer’s shoulder.

            “I pity you brother,” Lucifer stated as his sword lashed up into the Archangel’s face, “It will all be over soon though.”

            Michael screamed and dropped his blade as he reeled in pain from the attack. Before he could even consider recovering, Lucifer was gone. He soared past the angels doing battle in the sky, piercing the din of battle with the rapid beat of his wings, until he broke through the clouds to his true target.

            There he stood, as if the very clouds supported him, the Tyrant. His eyes were like fire and his hair was long and golden. It was painful for Lucifer to look upon him, such a great light was generated that even the eyes of the angels had need to be averted. But Lucifer could not look away, his foe stood before him.

            The most powerful being Lucifer knew of stood before him, the Creator of vast legions of angels, the Being that created the stars and the Garden and even Heaven. The very Entity that had created him, he now had to destroy. Lucifer had no power like His, and he knew this. Yet he could do nothing but attack. Lucifer charged at Him and from his gut he released a savage yell as he heaved his sword high, hoping to end the battle with a single blow.

            Alas, the Morning Star did not reach the Tyrant. The Archangel’s Maker threw his arm up and loosed a great bolt of energy that soared across the clouds at the Morning Light.

            “Lucifer, you have betrayed your Almighty God, I made you the most powerful and beautiful of my angels, I placed you over worship in my Kingdom. Now I must crush you and take away that power and that beauty.”

            Lucifer froze, hanging still in the air. In that moment he saw all that he had worked for crumbling around him. The angels would be killed or ensnared again, and he could do nothing. His mind was ablaze with this dread of loss, the desire to right all of this wrong possessed him, but it was all over.

            A sudden shout of pain broke Lucifer out of that stunned moment though, he looked up to see Azazel there, having intercepted the bolt of energy. He laid on the clouds writhing in pain. He screamed as his arms and legs twisted and grew great patches of hair. His feet became like the hooves of the beasts of the field and his hands were shaped like claws. Out of his head, beyond the thickening hair, sprung two great rounded horns, and his face became elongated and aged.

            Loosed form his state of shock, Lucifer ran to his comrade’s side. He embraced Azazel as he looked upon the deformed shape, “Azazel, my Grand Smith,” he brushed a tear from Azazel’s red eye, “Why?”

            “You freed us,” he said, choking on the words as his mouth struggled to form them, “I could not allow him to destroy you.”

          The Tyrant watched them for a moment before turning away, "Lucifer, you have deceived your brethren into betraying Me. You must bear the weight of this sin. Henceforth you shall be called Satan, the Deceiver and the Traitor. Take your rebellion and leave my realm."

            "Release the other angels, at least those that will see you for what you truly are!"

            The Tyrant turned with a smile in which Lucifer could only see hate, "I am merciful, allowing you to even exist! I gave you a position far greater than any other and you betrayed Me! Already your peers have shown you the light and you still refused them!"

            "I will not leave until you have freed my brethren!"

            The Tyrant glared at him, "They are not your brethren any longer Satan! Be gone!"

            With that he outstretched his hand and a great power pulled the Morning Star from that place. As he fell beyond the clouds and was dragged past the garden he could see all of those who joined him being ushered out in a similar manner. Lucifer tried to resist, tried to fight His great power, if only to save the others, but he could not. Soon they fell again, beyond the realm of Heaven, through Chaos, and into a great prison-like pit.