The Archangels heeded the words of the Ruler, and upon their dismissal, left the Great Hall. A pair of low-ranking angels had already begun to tidy the mess the Archs had made, their trembling hands picking up the feathers that had been pulled from Remiel's wings. No trace of the assault would remain in the Hall, the echoes of the Seraphim's screams long gone.
The four Archs decided against realm-travelling back to their territory, choosing to walk back to the secluded battlegrounds. Their orders given from the Ruler, they no longer felt confined to their territory, and instead began to make their presence more known among the Kingdom, especially among the Seraphim.
"It's almost a crime that we have been separated for so long," Azrael scoffed, looking at the pristine perfection of Raguel's fenceline, dragging his blade along the boards to leave his mark.
"These Seraphim seem to think they're the powerful ones? They may have the rank, but we have the strength. It's pathetic that their title makes them believe they're above us," Samael agreed with his Twin, causing a similar path of destruction to Gabriel's garden fence.
Zadkiel raised a red eyebrow at the vandalism that the Twins caused. "What do you have against them? We don't even know them. You only know what the Ruler told you. They could be perfectly decent." He scrubbed at the scruff on his jaw as the other Archs whipped around to glare at him. "But then again, it's not like one of our ranks Fell…"
Azazel picked up a rock and hurled it against Remiel's door, denting the oak deeply. "The Ruler had it backward. We're the ones that belong out in the Kingdom. We're not going to let ourselves be confined by the forest anymore - the other angels know we exist; why keep to ourselves? It's time to take what rightfully belongs to us."
Uriel, making his way to see Ophelia, heard the boisterous determination of the Archangels to make the Kingdom theirs. He slipped away, not wanting to be caught by the Archs and dragged back to their territory again. –But even with enough warning, can Zerachiel and his Brothers stop an army of the Archs?–
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Metatron barked his orders, calling for the Archangels for the training drills. He had sent Jophiel out for the patrol, and the Ruler had taken Azrael, Azazel, Samael, Orion, and Zadkiel from him. He frowned; there was very little of his troops left to train, only three pairs remained.
"Sandalphon! Haniel! Together!" The two moved to stand together, waiting for the sign to go.
"Chamuel! Sachiel! Together!" The men paired up obediently as Metatron shouted their names.
Knowing they were the last two, Ariel and Raziel stood next to one another, and Metatron nodded approvingly.
"Move out!"
On Metatron's command, the pairs faced one another, weapons unsheathed, crouched at the ready. The commander ignited the strip of cloth around his arrow, and pulled the bowstring back. The Archs waited for the signal; once the burning arrow was loosed, they were to start. Any earlier than the signal, and all warriors would be punished with extra training.
All eyes on Metatron, he prepared to let the signal to start free. Something caught his attention, and he tossed the arrow onto the grass, his boot stomping out the flame.
"Commander, what is it?" Ariel sheathed her sword, standing straight.
"Listen."
The voices grew louder as the men drew closer; there was no mistaking their brethren. The battle-ready Archs stood from their ready positions, waiting to see what news the others brought.
"Brothers!" Azazel leapt over the short fence that surrounded the training grounds. Sachiel gulped; he had hoped to have a training session free of Azazel and his abuse.
"What news, Azazel?" Metatron stood before the returning Archangels, waiting to hear what had come from the Ruler's orders.
A distorted joy gleamed in Azazel's black eyes. "Another Seraphim, Commander. The one Samael has been in charge of guarding."
Metatron turned his attention to the Twin Archs, their identical features showing matching twisted grins. Samael pushed his long hair over his shoulder before he told his Commander about Remiel and the new orders.
"We were told to bring in any angel of any rank who mentioned the Fallen by name. That was the order. And this absolute brainless, spineless fuck of a Seraphim I've been guarding goes and breaks the command! Azrael and I move in to bring him to the Ruler, and his Brothers block him from us. So I threw this knife - damn, it's still at their home, Azrael! No loss. Anyhow, I threw the knife, it pierced the wing of the oldest one, Gabriel? He falls like a sack of shit, no discipline. Once he fell, we took Remiel off to the Ruler for punishment. The Ruler called for Zadkiel and Azazel, and He had us completely strip the man's wings!" He ran his fingers over each other, as if he was remembering what it felt like to pull the feathers from Remiel.
"That's bloody disgusting. Never mention that here again. What else?" Metatron's lip curled; he had the stomach for violence and bloodshed, but needless torment for the sake of punishment was of no interest to the Commander.
"Orion is being left to guard on his own. The one he's been guarding is of little threat. The Ruler now wants Azazel to join me with Zerachiel, and Zadkiel to join Samael," Azrael finished recounting the Ruler's orders for his brother.
"I'm to train you all harder to prepare for an uprising of the Seraphim, but I continue to lose men to guard them?" The Commander set his jaw, the muscle twitching. "Such are orders, I suppose, but you all best be prepared to work harder to make up for the lack of troops. Do I make myself clear?" His voice raised to a shout, and the rest of the Archangels shouted.
"Yes, Sir!"
"Back in position! Ready; start!"
The blades rang out across the battleground as Azazel, Zadkiel, and the Twin Archs eagerly leapt in to join the fray.