When Uriel and his clan had left Eden, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with his Virtue brothers and sisters. He took up a place that was as far away as possible from the other Virtues' dominions to keep the wars from reaching his people. He didn't want to disobey the words his Lords had given him; he had to mentally prepare himself to do what was necessary—no matter how much he hated it.
His clan took refuge in an obscure part of Paradioso-Chutz, finding solace in a Tundra-draped snowfield that would shift into a Temporal Forest in the Day, and back to its raging Tundra at nightfall. The leaves of each tree that surrounded their territory and houses were white. The barks were silvery-grey, matching the colour of the mountains that sat at the rear of their dominion, protecting against attacks from the south.
Why? How did all of this happen? How did everything I knew suddenly just get thrown away in an instant? Uriel lamented, Everyone I knew, all those I considered my friends—all now just enemies? No, this isn't right. How am I to hold these weapons they've given me in good faith against any of them, especially someone like—
His chain of thought was snapped by a messenger entering his midst, flying into the room, and landing in the small space that was present at the foot of his throne.
His palace and the homes of his fellow angels were a steel blue with snow perpetually atop their roofs, never melting and never yielding. Blizzards enshrouded their world, swirling around the apex of the castle. The stronghold was built in a stark Tudor style with hints of Gothic flair.
Snowfields and hail could freeze an angel's wings dry in a second, forcing Uriel to cast magic around the realm to make it habitable for his people. This, however, did not give up the defensive advantages that it afforded when an enemy would come knocking. The place was an icy wonderland of hell frost that very few could weather and even fewer would dare go. This was why he chose the place—a place where no angel would dare traverse unless the Gods ordered them to do so.
"Lord Uriel, I do not wish to disturb you, but…Lord Chamuel and some of his family are present at our gatefront," The messenger said, "And he wishes to have an audience with you."
The other Powers that were near had their weapons at their side as the angel spoke to Uriel. Their Virtue's face twisted with apprehension and quiet fear at the words his messenger told him.
Chamuel—no, why would he be here for…? Uriel thought, his mind racing with endless thoughts, but if so, why would he then seek an audience with me and come only with his family?
"Does he bring an army with him?" Uriel asked.
"I doubt he has intentions of conflict, my lord," The Messenger said. "Only he, Dragnash, and Midra are present."
After pausing for a moment to deliberate with himself, he replied. His voice was tinged with an air of depression.
"Bring them."
*****
The three guests were escorted into Uriel's court with angels garbed in warrior and soldier attire, bringing them to the feet of Uriel. Two weapons were prominent beside him—his sword fashioned like a plectrum, while a shield constructed like a violin of an icy-blue with a large circular base that covered his full forearm.
Chamuel looked upon his former friend and knelt, Midra doing the same. Yet Dragnash—his son and husband of Midra—did not follow suit, drawing his father's ire. All in this company were clothed similarly to their Virtue, with Midra wearing a corset dress with metal sheeting covering her hips like armor. Dragnash's chest covering was unbuttoned and had lightweight armor underneath to cover his chest with a singular necklace hanging down. His knees were covered in greaves, and his hands bore gauntlets.
"You don't need to bow to me, Chamuel. Dragnash is in the right," Uriel told him, biting one of his fingernails. "Why would you bow to an enemy of yours?"
"Oh, come on, old friend. Don't tell me you too have fallen to the plague of war that the others have?" Chamuel said to him, upbeat despite the air of confrontation that seemed to be apparent.
"It is inevitable, Chamuel," Uriel told him, looking away from his friend, "I just don't want that to come to reality. Which leads me to ask why you are here in my borders? You even brought Midra and Dragnash for what reason?"
Chamuel got off his knees while Uriel arose from his seat. Uriel extended his six wings, drifting from his throne towards the three that stood before him.
"I never introduced you to them before. But also I want your help," Chamuel said, "So let us get one thing out of the way."
Chamuel reached out for a hug, but Uriel refused him.
"I promise, Uriel, you need not be so on edge."
Uriel sighed in response, getting Chamuel to dismiss his efforts. The general then turned to his daughter-in-law and son, drawing Uriel's attention to them.
"Fine, my friend," Chamuel said, disheartened in tone. "Midra and Dragnash, this is Uriel, Virtue of Charity."
Uriel reached out a hand for Dragnash to shake, but Dragnash pushed his hand away, much to Chamuel's dismay. His father reprimanded him immediately after. Midra shook Uriel's hand with both palms, then she turned her attention to her brooding husband. She grabbed Dragnash by the ear and pulled him to her level, as she was slightly shorter in stature.
"Show some respect to the man who stands in front of us—his time is precious," she reprimanded him, Dragnash wincing in pain before she released him from her grip.
Dragnash, after recomposing himself, grabbed Uriel's hand and shook it. Uriel was somewhat amused by the family dynamics playing out before him.
"Please don't mind, Dragnash, much. He has a propensity to be quite callous, especially since he was wrong on whether or not we would get an audience with you," Midra said, poking Dragnash on the cheek.
Her husband quickly turned to her with a scowl, only getting a cheeky grin from her in return.
"It is quite alright. I am glad to have you three here," Uriel replied, relaxing somewhat from his cold exterior.
Chamuel would then interject himself, "You must have some place better for us to talk and chat. I would rather not continue to stand around."
"Of course, just come with me," Uriel said.
The four then departed from the throne room, being led by Uriel through the interior workings of the Icelandic fortress.
*****
Uriel took them to a library-esque area with blue-chandelier lights that bathed the room in a bright glow, with bookshelves surrounding the entire room. Carpets of an array of cerulean encircled one another till they reached the center of the room. Large couches and other seats of a high echelon were scattered across the expanse.
Chamuel, Uriel, and Midra took a seat in the dwelling, while Dragnash stood outside, leaning on the doorframe to the room. Uriel couldn't take his attention off the armored man as he wondered why he didn't come to take a seat.
This man seems so troubled, Uriel noted, watching Dragnash seem to constantly have his hand on the hilt of his enormous blade strapped to his back.
Dragnash simply couldn't keep his eyes still, glancing around the hallways every so often.
"Thank you again, Uriel, for seeing us," Chamuel said to him, pulling Uriel's attention from Dragnash. "Also, do not be too perturbed by Dragnash; he's been this way ever since leaving Eden."
"This…aloof?" Uriel asked.
"Even in Eden, he was always to himself most of the time. It was hard to see him with anyone but Midra, and that was because she actively sought to be around him." Chamuel said, his son yet to realize his significance in the conversation, "You can sometimes see the hatred he holds for this world after everything we lost."
"I don't fault him; I hate it all as well...You can't be okay with all of this, Chamuel, can you?" Uriel asked him.
"I've simply bent my mind to the case that we are in, like many of the others—some far better or worse than others."
"You mean Gabriel?"
"Not just him. Lucifer as well," Chamuel said. "This is the reason why I'm here, Uriel. I need your help. This isn't just about me or my people. This is about everyone, even other Virtues."
"What do you mean?" Uriel questioned.
Chamuel looked to Midra for a second, with her nodding to him before he went on further.
"I take it you've already heard about Gabriel slaying Raphael."
"Indeed…," Uriel said, a weird silence entering the room.
Each person hung their head in reverence for a moment, all save for Dragnash, who still had yet to listen in on their conversation. Chamuel offered a quick prayer of solace to those of Raphael's kin before moving on from the moment.
"Do you also know of Lucifer and Raguel's fight?"
Uriel lifted his head, eyes widening at his friend's question. "Lucifer and Raguel…no, I haven't heard such a thing yet."
"Well, that's because there was no victor. I was there fighting beside Raguel, not because I wanted to, or because he asked me for help. As a matter of fact, we were going to have our own fight if it weren't for his arrival. It felt like the atmosphere was trying to crush both me and Raguel."
Chamuel's hands then subtly trembled, his voice sometimes shaking despite his hardened nature.
"His aura was terrifying. The way he fought was more like an animal than an angel. There was no grace in the way he moved. And even when other angels, friend or foe, got in his way, he would just cleave them to pieces regardless of who it was."
That sounds nothing like Lucifer.
Chamuel then raised the leg of his pants, revealing a prosthetic leg inscribed with insignias and sigils that resonated with magic. Uriel stared at the prosthetic, unable to move his eyes from the hunk of metal that was made masterfully and seamlessly like a regular leg. He admired not the craftsmanship that went into making it, but what this meant for the reality and truth of the situation.
"Both Raguel and I barely escaped with our lives…It was two against one, and he still made us look like fools—and he decreed something before we left."
Chamuel then quoted Lucifer word for word. It had been burnt into his memory, shaking the Virtue to his core.
"'I will spread chaos to anywhere and everywhere I go, and I will start with either of your domains—the first great chaos I paint for the Gods to see'. That man isn't like us anymore. He is something completely out of this world. I doubt even Gabriel can beat him."
Uriel then hastily responded, fear having taken hold of him as well. "And what would you have me do about that then? This is even more reason for me not to trifle with the likes of our other brothers and sisters."
"What I ask is for your help, to end all of this." Chamuel said, "I don't know which one he intends to pick first or if he intends to even follow through with his intentions, but regardless, I can't take that chance."
Chamuel then bowed his head to Uriel.
"My people are at risk, and I know for a fact I can't beat him by myself. You and I, we can take him down, not for just my people or yours, but for everyone else. Because whatever he is, he is something else, neither angel nor devil."
"So that's it?" Uriel said, almost chastising him for the stance he was taking. "A Virtue of Kindness asking for my help in attacking another Virtue? Do you hear yourself right?"
"Our titles as Virtues were thrown far out the window the second the Gods made this bloodsport," Chamuel said, in a hushed yelp, "Gabriel has been turned into a warrior that paints death with every strike of his spear, Lucifer's body moves like a dog with drunk with smell of blood, and you are worried about whether I am living to the standard of the virtue that is to my namesake?"
"Because that is what we are supposed to be!" Uriel shouted back, shaking the room and causing a silence to rush over it.
He then broke the silence and first started out with an apology, "I am sorry—it is just, I, myself, have not come to terms with everything that has changed so suddenly in our lives. I would rather recall those days in Eden, when I played Raphael whatever tune he wanted to hear," Uriel said, small tears escaping down the side where his mask was not covering,
He soon took it off entirely, grasping it so tight that small cracks soon formed. But then, Chamuel spoke up to him, seeing tears welling in his own eyes while Midra did all she could to hold back her own.
"I understand, I promise you I do. But if we don't do something, a lot of people, a lot of angels are going to die in the worst form possible."
"That still doesn't make it right to steal life from him or from any of our friends—"
"They aren't our friends anymore!" Chamuel said, wavering in convictions found in his throat. "You and I can see through the masquerade that this world is bringing. But the rest of them—they can't. Our lords didn't say we couldn't ally ourselves; this can be our chance to deal with him and then be better able to defend ourselves from Gabriel—"
"And what if we don't beat him? You and Raguel couldn't beat him, and I would argue Raguel is stronger than I am," Uriel told him, "And even then, how do I know you won't even betray me?"
Chamuel was frozen in place. His face first became blank before registering Uriel's words with Midra, and even Dragnash, looking at their Virtue in shock. He slowly croaked one word under his breath,
"Uriel…."
"I'm sorry, Chamuel, I won't help you, I have too much on my mind, and too many grievances and issues to sort out…if there is anything else you wish to ask me before you leave, you may," Uriel uttered, his voice quaking and his stance on the matter shaky at best.
Silence took over the room, with Chamuel hanging his head down as Midra moved to comfort him. Uriel couldn't look at the man he once called a friend, unable to join him in the quest he wanted to undertake. He was too conflicted on the stance he was to take toward the world that was around him. He didn't want to kill like the others had readily accepted.
Chamuel raised his head and looked at his friend, who sat across from him. He knew him too well to be mad at the decision he had made, and instead, a small smile crossed his face that broke Uriel's heart even more. Chamuel thanked Uriel for his time; he and Midra stood up from their seats, with Midra being the first to walk away.
The Virtue of Kindness was slow to follow behind. But before Chamuel left, he said one final thing to Uriel.
"Uriel, I will never raise my weapon against you, old friend. You are my greatest friend, and I will never fight or harm you. I will never forget all our time spent in Eden together, all the time you and I talked, walked, and embraced music together. As long as I live, I will always be your friend."
Uriel felt nothing. His face drained with emotionless tears that he didn't know how to display. Chamuel and Midra stepped out of his presence, while Dragnash was the last to leave. He grunted under his breath, then—with all the animosity he could muster—he gave Uriel a last parting gesture.
"Thank you for nothing, Virtue of Charity," Dragnash said, following his father and wife.
Dragnash's words hurt worse than a sword thrust to his heart. Uriel wondered if what he had said was justified or not—if he was truly worthy to be called the Virtue of Charity. The concept of Virtue was lost to him now—it had lost all meaning, never to be known to him again.