By the time Yazekiel and his sons had reached Tartarus, stronghold to the fiend forces that inhabited earth, the sun had completely set. Darkness now covered the land and Yazakiel knew that this meant, but one thing. He had to send his eldest son into the danger that gloom on the forbidden forest.
Looking outside the window located on his study, Yazakiel could not help but get lost in his own thoughts. How he wished that this day would never come. He had gotten so used to the peace that reign over earth, that war was nothing but an almost forgotten nightmare. For him it felt as if it was a lifetime ago when he last held his sword with the intention of exterminating all those who opposed him and what he represented.
Closing his eyes, Yazakiel hoped to scare away the memories that hunted him. Memories from those horrible years of him in the battlefield. But as he opened his eyes it seemed as if he had time-traveled and in front of him, outside the window instead of darkness and the far away mountains that belonged to the forbidden forest he saw himself kneeling on a dusty ground, bodies surrounding him. Using his sword as a cane, which provided him with the support that his body so desperately needed, he knew he was on the brink of collapsing. It had been days of never-ending battles and both his spirit and body were on their last breath. Yazakiel looked around and within the dead bodies he could see many familiar faces that included Tartarus soldiers and commanders. So many beings had sacrificed their lives for this idea of unity and this sacrifice is what kept Yazakiel going every single day. Just like them he was willing to sacrifice everything, his eternal life included if this meant that he could provide and guarantee a haven for his one true love Penelope. Call him selfish if you will, but the truth in his heart could not be hidden. His beautiful wife was his motivation and the thought of her living in dark world was something he was never going to accept. She deserved a peaceful life and even if that life did not include him, he was willing to do everything and sacrifice anything to give her nothing less than tranquility.
Just as he kept observing his surroundings, he could see a sea of decapitated, bloodies bodies as far as his great inhuman eyesight could reach and this pained him. How many demon, angel and even human lives had to be sacrificed to make this harmony a reality? How many more were going to be forsaken before the agreed upon treaty was respected by all?
"Yazakiel..!" a thunderous shout was heard coming from his far right and then blood. It felt as if the land was finally over this war and the only way it could react was by spitting out all the blood that it had consumed. Thick, red drops of blood landed on his head and made their way down to his face until it dripped down his strong chin. For Yazakiel being covered in blood was not something new. In fact, this was a daily occurrence. Something he was used to, but nevertheless, was getting tired of. He looked around and saw this rain of blood was just limited to his area. Then next to him he felt a presence, a dark silhouette was right next to him covering the strong noon sun from his view. In the next second he noticed that this silhouette was faltering and that the blood he had soaked in was coming from this figure. More precisely it was coming from his severed head that seconds later landed in front of him along with the dark figure that he could recognized as one of the now fallen angels who had opposed the treaty.
"I know that despite your appearance you are an old man, but you have to be careful," Michael said as he pulled out his sword from the faltering figure, "Remember that your demise is reserved only for me, old friend." His cheeky smile had not disappeared regardless of the never-ending battle that he too had been a part of.
Yazakiel was always intrigue by Michael and how he always managed to find humor in even the most grotesque of times. Was it an angel thing?
"Father," a fleeting whispered invaded his senses. "Are you alright?" It was as if the observing Yazakiel had been jolted back to reality and as he turned around the bloodied war scenario disappeared like a mist that was pushed away by a strong wind current.
As he turned around, his flaming red eyes were filled with an indescribable emotion. Those eyes landed on no one else but his youngest son Azael who was standing a few steps away from him while Ezequiel sat comfortably on a chair with his left foot rested comfortably over his right knee. Ezequiel was observing his father. This was not the first time he had seen him loose himself and he knew that every time he did it was because he was lost in his unwanted memories. Ezequiel felt sorry for him and was aware that only he knew exactly what plague his soul, but even if he didn't know the details of his nightmares, as his son Ezequiel had made it his mission to lessen his father's burden however way he could.
Yazakiel took a deep breath before straightening his back and walking closer to Azael. For him his son was much too young to be involved in all of this. He knew that his time was to come sooner than later, but he wanted to hold on to him a little bit longer. Give him the courtesy that he was not able to give to his eldest.
"What do you want to know?" Yazakiel asked as he placed his right hand over Azael's shoulder.
"Everything," was the quick, almost automatic response Azael gave back.
Yazakiel made his way to his desk and sat on the edge of it while looking intently at Azael, willing to share the information he had, but nothing else. His time to participate had not yet arrived.
"Okay." A quick nod was followed from Yazakiel while he extended his left hand directing his son to have a seat across from his brother.
Azael made his way to the chair that was intended for him on the left side of the room and was about to sit down when his brother's voice interrupted his movement.
"Father, don't waste your time," Ezequiel said meaningfully while he gave Azael a knowing look.
Azael was not even surprised. Nothing could ever escape his brother's attentive personality.
"You know!?" Azael jumped up from his almost sitting position.
"He knows what?" Yazakiel was at a lost.
"Of course, I know," Ezequiel responded indifferently.
"Oh," Yazakiel finally understood the implication that came from Ezequiel's words.
"When you are going to spy on someone, there are many things that you need to perfect and one of them is your breathing," Ezequiel took the opportunity to lecture his brother. He was not against him knowing the reality that they were waltzing into, but he did feel as if he was not yet prepared. There were many rookie mistakes that he kept repeating. "I could hear you from a mile away."
"Oh Azael," Yazakiel shook his head, trying to control the laughter that wanted to escape his lips. "You are never going to change."
"I wouldn't have to resort to such techniques if you were to include me in your discussions." Azael wasn't going to go down without getting his point across. In his mind all this could have been prevented if only his father and brother would stop treating him like a little kid.
Azael threw a fierce look at both men hoping that this would help him make his point, but he soon remembered who he was dealing with. Both his father and brother were lords of the fierce look. Nothing ever seem to face them, and he knew that even him was not going to be able to intimidate them. Just when he was about to give up and cave hope arrived.
"Agreed," One simple word coming from his brother was all the recognition that he needed to be elated to the sky. "From now on you will be included in all our discussions and meetings, if you are okay with this father?" Ezequiel whose gaze had been completely centered on Azael moved to his father to give him the last word.
"Yes, we will do as you say."
Turning his gaze towards his brother he said in a strong commanding voice, "I assume that when you spied on us last night you heard everything," Azael shamelessly nodded, "I thought as much, well then you are up to date. I need to go get ready." Ezequiel stood up, always a man of a few words.
Azael also stood up intending to follow him, when Ezequiel suddenly halted. And without turning around commanded, "Today you will not be joining as," And before Azael could even react, his brother walked out of the room living him behind boiling in anger.