Gone to Graveyards: Vignette the First

By Prodigal


"He did WHAT!?!"

The reliever squealed in equal parts agony and terror as Baal clutched its developing wings. "They say he killed her, Dread Lord," it sobbed, twisting its celestial form in a futile attempt to escape the Prince of The War's relentless grasp, "I am but the messenger! I beg you, please let me go!" Those few witnesses present to hear the thud of the reliever's broken form shattering against the nearest wall shivered as its Forces unraveled.

Baal frowned, wiping the last traces of the reliever's soul from his claws. "The idiot has no idea what he has unleashed," he said in a voice chill as the grave.

"You let this happen?"

The doors to the Library had not even finished falling to its floor before Michael's eyes burned into Yves', six blazing suns bearing down into two contemplative pools.

"Bad enough you let the Hyena do what he did unto Gabriel, but HOW could you let THIS happen?" The depths of sorrow in the Archangel of War's gaze finally let itself show, as his anger burned away in the face of the Archangel of Destiny's passivity.

"If you truly wish to know," Yves said with quiet sadness, "Then look into my eyes, and know the Truth of it."

Michael stared into Yves' eyes in shock.

"You would permit such a thing? You COULD permit such a thing?"

"I could do nothing to prevent it," Yves said at last. "Aside from myself, only two others of our kind have borne a burden such as this before you. And at last, you know why."

"Perhaps I misjudged you," Michael eventually said.

"Perhaps," replied Yves as he lay a gentle hand on his fellow Archangel's shoulder, "But that is behind us now."

The old man laughed as he uprooted another of the flowers growing on the roadside. "Another gone," he thought, grinning his approval to the grass beneath his feet as it turned increasingly brown, then tore the next in a series of flowers from the soil in which they grew, "And another, and another, and another..."


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