She is redemption.

Colours in her life used to be so vivid. She remembered the saturated hues of the rainbow of flowers which lined the Garden of Eden. She remembered the golden glow of her glorious siblings. Even the ivory of each feather on every wingspan glistened in her memory like glitter. Even after her fall, she remembered gazing out at that Mediterranean Sea and seeing contrasts of blue and green. But as time broke her, the temperature of these colours dropped to grey. Each fluid colour slowly bled into dark tones of white and it was as if the life from everything around her had been drained.

Azazel’s eyelids closed over, tightening together as she released a single tear. It crawled down her face in the same manner the ferocious waves brushed her knees as she remained knelt. Damp sand had sunk her slightly and the bottom of her dress was ruined from the dirty minerals in which the foam carried with each lunge forward. Even the tips of her wings began to matt together because of the water. But she was careless of her appearance. She was without purpose.

“Your Ocean is with us.” Michael’s deep voice echoed throughout the cove as he stepped forward, daring to place his hand on his self-destructive sister. The bitterness of the salty breeze along with his words were enough to cause a shiver to run over the fallen. Shuddering slightly as the pressure of his hand against her held her still.

“She is everywhere. And no where. She was my only regret. The only sin I wish never captured me. Lust took me and tore my innocence limb from limb. But that lust gave me purpose. It could have saved me. And I destroyed it. Like I destroy everything.”

Her voice was lost in the breeze; only just audible to Michael as her vocal cords trembled in fear. Loneliness was the only thing that captured her now. The need to cause destruction to all those in her path to avoid losing herself. She was solitary for this reason. Afraid to lose another like she had lost her daughter through her actions. It was a pain that haunted her; disrupted her pattern from ever being able to sleep. It took her soul and crushed it as if it was an empty snail shell which had been stepped upon. Shattering into shards of woe. Azazel knew she was so far gone that she only wished that Michael was here to serve the ultimate punishment for her torment she had placed upon the world over the past millennia. She was ready and ached for nothing more than to perish. Flaxen strands floated as her complexion flushed a shade of fuchsia in the breeze. It caused a golden shimmer over both the angels as the sun began to set over the distant horizon.

“No. Azazel.” Michael’s tone lowered to a hushed gruff as he crouched down beside his sister. His large, muscular hand dipped into the gentle water as it continuously brushed against them both. As if he was as engrossed and fascinated by the waves as Azazel was. Fingers curling into his palm slowly, Michael shook his head slowly as his identical sapphire orbs met Azazel’s own as she glanced across at him. It was a bitter pill to swallow; gazing into the eyes of one of the angels she held so much animosity towards. She knew deep down that she could not hold Michael accountable for her actions from the fall, or the fall itself. But she had no idea how to truly act. All of her siblings fell silent when she collided with Earth; destroying all celestial relationships she had.

“Your naivety failed you that evening. But it may be what can save you now.” Michael whispered; his gaze intense with her. Azazel knew that look. It was the look he gave Lucifer. The look of longing. Wanting to help. Wanting to save and repair his siblings. That was Michael. He may have been God’s greatest warrior. But he was a protector. If he could have worn several hats, he would have been a guardian if he could have. He knew he’d never be able to help his fallen kin back to righteousness. But he would do all in his power to make them remember who they truly were. Glorious angels; created through love and compassion and nothing else. The lightning in his heart-struck Azazel subconsciously as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Michael.” A lump in Azazel’s throat rose. It was like his words had grabbed her by the jugular and held her there. Bottom lip quivering and a stammer present due to distress. “What is this in-insanity you speak?” She whispered, eyes continuing to swell.

Michael smiled. It was gentle. Calming. Warm. The polar opposite to Azazel’s dark, vicious and sinister smile which usually graced her victims. His hand lowered from her shoulder as he slowly rose, standing and towering over her in his golden glory.

“She is with us. But, really. With us.” Michael’s gaze rose to the Heavens.. Azazel was still confused. Of course her daughter was. She did no wrong for her life to be taken before It had begun. The angel leant forward, distributing her weight as she stumbled to her feet. Wet grains of sand stuck to her knees and calves and her feet sunk into the damp the same way the rest of her did.

“I know that. What is the means of this?” Distorted frustration was heard in her strained voice. What was he trying to do? Of course the young life would be residing in Heaven. Just like all of those who proved loyalty to the Lord. 

Michael smiled once more, shaking his head slowly.

“She is one of us. She may be from a mortal man. But she is one of a celestial mother. Human blades alone would have not vanquished her.” Michael stated the obvious which had gone over Azazel’s head the entire time she walked earth and caused genocide. It was something she loved – being unharmed by measly human weapons. But it had never clicked with her prior. Being so young and innocent, it didn't cross her mind that her daughter would have survived such a horrific ordeal which was being torn from her mother’s womb far before her time. Azazel had been convinced the Heaven’s had washed their hands with her. Why would they save a life which was hers?

Azazel remained silent for a moment. Her entire facial muscles relaxed as she played the scene out in her mind once more. She kept these memories looked deep away. It could have driven her to insanity if she pondered over them. But she needed to piece this together cautiously. Was Michael talking as literal as he was indicating?

Frustration became horrific realisation. Corners of her lips dropped and her bottom lip trembled as her eyes dried their tears in the alkaline breeze. Bloodshot and glazed, Azazel gaze rose up; glancing up at her superior kin who stood in all of his might. She had always been in awe of Michael. He was the male version of her. They were both warriors. But he was created to be. Azazel’s battleaxe ways came from learning the sins and letting them ruin her mind. 

Her knees fell weak but Michael was quick to step forward, embracing Azazel before she could fall. Swollen eyes cried as she buried her face into his bicep. It was the first time in eons since she had let an angel who wasn’t fallen in her presence without wanting to destroy them. Let alone allow herself to be immersed in both embrace and emotion. She had longed to be in her brother’s arms for millenia. No matter how bitter her exterior could come across as; angels were made from love. To love. Her sibling’s absence had been longed for desperately. 

The angel whimpered as mixed emotions took their course. At this stage, it wasn’t clear whether it was animosity or glee. She had become something she had always envied. She was never maternal. Not in the eyes of others. Children made her uncomfortable. Tense. But the underlying problem was the guilt which followed her like the shadows followed her every command. The forced termination was the reason for her lack of attachment to anything. It allowed her to murder so procariously. It stopped her from feeling positive sentiment. Those actions turned her against men and was the reason for all death and destruction. Severe postnatal depression was ingrained into her code so heavily that not even she realised until now. She was clueless which truly caused her tears now but she cried. Hard. Azazel had never released such a hurricane of emotions. A weight off her shoulders but the worst misconduct overrode the relief she should have felt. Dark understanding that all the wrong doings she had done in the world had been for nothing. Demolition of entire countries and civilisations was a bereaving cry for her daughter who had never actually left. Her entire existence had become futile.

Azazel grasped Michael tightly. Her fingers curled in, hands balling up as she let out all of her frustration. The angst and betrayal feelings slowly wilted. As if her entire existence was resetting itself. Her usual release was through destruction. But she felt nothing but love. Her heart was full and it ached for the first time she could remember. The void had been filled.

She had spent her years on Earth searching for a purpose. And now she finally had one.