Free Betrayal - A Demon Squad Story by Tim Marquitz

Betrayal
    (Scarlett’s Story)
     
    As I had every evening since I’d returned to Heaven, I knelt outside the throne room of God and prayed for his return.
    And as it had been every other night, my prayers went unanswered.
    My knees were stiff from kneeling upon the cold tiles, so I rose to my feet with an empty sigh, hearing others of my brethren doing the same around me. The flickers of God’s essence, which clung to the Kingdom, were more a vexation tonight than they’d ever been. Too great a presence to be completely scoured away, what remained was but the slightest hint of a scent, the flutter of a dying breath; just enough to remind me of what we’d lost. Tonight it seemed a glimmer more than usual, but it was no comfort.
    God was gone, and we were still alone.
    I glanced about the hall, meeting the eyes of my brethren in turn. Sorrow filled many of them, cold resolution in the rest. Several of the retiring angels nodded and waved in my direction as they made their way from the temple. A few simply turned and left without acknowledgement.
    It was a frustration I’d largely learned to live with.
    Though I’d cast aside my demonic heritage, wholly embracing the light of the Lord, there were still those who felt I was little better than the Fallen and should be cast out. Their antipathy had been held in check when God sat upon the Throne, but His disappearance was a spur to many who believed the influence of Lucifer, and those of his line, had been the cause of God’s departure. No longer leashed to the Father’s disapproval, their anger had slithered through the cracks and been set loose.
    The return of Duke Forcalor had done nothing to lessen the bitterness of their beliefs, however unfounded. Granted free will, they would think as they would, and nothing but time or the return of God could change that.
    I strolled the along the courtyard path on my way home, the clinging memories of the Father heavy on my mind. I had known him so short a time, but his absolute acceptance of my devotion and place in Heaven had been the greatest moment in my existence. Born in Hell, I did not fit amongst the demons, or even the Nephilim who walked the Earth, the call of the Choir ringing loudest in my breast since the moment of my birth. I knew where I belonged.
    He had seen that in me, and had rewarded my obeisance, but now He was gone. I wished only to prove my dedication once more and bring back the Heaven I’d known under His guidance.
    It seemed a dream. Wishing to wrap myself inside its warm contentedness, I returned home. One last prayer to the void as I crawled beneath the covers of my bed, I lay my head to rest.
    Sleep was slow to come.
     
    ~
     
    The whisper of steel pulled me from my dreams.
    Honed by the sharpened edge of battle, I gave no thought to anything save survival. I rolled from the bed and lashed out as I dove to claim my blade. My shin collided with rigid muscle, and I heard the whoosh of lost breath as I leaped past my unknown assailant. My fingers settled on the pommel of my sword, and I drew it free, its confident song filling the air.
    Everto in hand, I spun about to see the blade of an axe buried in the mattress where my head laid just moments before. Golden hands clasped its leather-wrapped shaft and worked to pull it free as I advanced on instinct. I took only one step before I could take no more. My feet seemed to fill with lead as my sleep-sodden mind processed what my eyes saw. Awareness roared to life.
    This was no demon that stood before me, no zealot of the dark arts come to kill me in my slumber, but one of my own kind; an angel, one I’d known my entire life.
    “ Valore?” I could barely bring myself to name him under the weight of what he’d done. He had tried to kill me, here in my home; here in Heaven. For all the whispered complaints and frustrated stares of the Choir, I could never have imagined such a heinous act being committed in the Kingdom. My strength withered at the thought,