Lucifer
The light in the underworld never changes—it remains eternal, unmoving, a fusion of deep shadows and faint glimmers that seem to breathe in rhythm with my thoughts. But today, something is different.
Today, my light does not obey.
It pulses.
As if reacting to something beyond this realm.
As if being pulled.
Summoned.
Drawn.
By her.
The thread I bound to Celeste's soul—a bond I never should have created—vibrates like a string drawn tight beneath the hand of an invisible violinist.
She is thinking of me.
Dreaming of me.
Calling to me without uttering a single word.
And I… I feel everything.
I close my eyes, and for a moment the underworld disappears.
I sense the delicate cold of the Highlands, the damp fragrance of the lake, her soft breath.
The faint taste of her skin.
The tremor of her lips as mine neared them.
I force my eyes open, but her image refuses to fade.
This has never happened to me.
Never.
Not when I was first among the archangels.
Not when a single command made the heavens tremble.
Not when I faced Michael and was cast out forever.
Nothing—absolutely nothing—has ever touched me the way this human does.
And it infuriates me.
And it fascinates me.
And it binds me to her in a way I cannot—nor do I wish to—break.
The dark stone beneath my feet warms, responding to my emotions.
Some shadows retreat.
Others watch, fearful.
They can feel something stirring within me, something that does not belong to this realm.
I do not blame them.
I do not fully understand it myself.
But I know I cannot ignore it.
I walk from the throne across its vast span to the edge of the fiery precipice. The heat does not harm me—it never has—but today it feels stronger.
Or perhaps I am more alive.
"Why does she call to me…?" I murmur.
It is not accusation.
It is wonder.
I did not choose her out of whim.
I did not kiss her out of mere desire.
I recognized her.
Even before I touched her, before I truly saw her, something within her shone for me.
Something neither Heaven nor Earth can create.
A purity that is not innocence.
A strength that is not arrogance.
Celeste possesses a soul that sees.
That feels.
That reaches me despite the darkness I carry.
And that… that intrigues me more than any mystery I have faced since the beginning of time.
I spread my wings.
Their sound echoes like thunder muffled by the walls of the underworld.
The darkness parts instinctively—everything here fears my light.
Even so, I hesitate.
I should let her go.
I should sever the bond.
I should erase what we planted between us in that dream.
But the memory of her kiss rises so vividly that my breath falters.
The touch of her fingers against my face.
The involuntary surrender of her body to my light.
The soft sound of her name escaping her lips as I enveloped her.
Celeste.
Her name repeats within me like a forbidden prayer.
I want her.
I want to see her.
I want to taste again the lips that linger on mine.
I want to feel her heart tremble when I draw near.
I want to hear her whisper my name without fear.
And above all…
I want to understand why this human awakens something in me that not even Heaven awakened when I was created.
Perhaps that is what frightens me.
Perhaps that is what draws me in.
I do not know.
But I know I cannot remain here while she feels my absence.
While she wonders if I am real.
While she touches her lips, remembering the kiss I gave her.
I open my wings fully and feel my light ignite—furious with distance, with desire, with the urgency to reach her.
The underworld trembles.
And I decide.
"I am coming to you, Celeste."
The flames of the underworld bow.
The darkness yields.
The light surges through me, more alive than it has been since the dawn of time.
And then, with a single beat of my wings, I leave the underworld for the place where my destiny began to change:
the Scottish Highlands.
the lake.
the human who sees me.
With every beat of my wings, her call grows stronger.
Warmer.
More impossible to ignore.
I am on my way.
And nothing—neither Heaven, nor the underworld, nor fate itself—will stop me.