Angels Before Man

by Rafael Nicolás

“He will be perfect in wisdom and innocence as he is perfect in beauty.”

“You are the morning star,” He told him. “Your name will be Lucifer.”

Lucifer nodded, in timid obedience. “I will try to resist falling back asleep in fear.”

Mood babe

“Those who were there at your creation said they had never seen Father create with such care before. We love rumors here in Heaven; we all thought you were going to be special.”

“Oh, I wish I had an infinite house, just so that all of your presents could hold a place in it! Please, please, forgive me.” And Rosier had comforted him and asked him to calm down, then turned his head to the stranger and reaffirmed that Lucifer was still very young, which meant he was very emotional. Becoming familiar with every marvelous thing at once was a painful process, after all,

He is the most popular angel in all of Heaven.” He paused, then seemed to remember the extent of Lucifer’s youth. “He is an archangel.” “Archangel,” Lucifer repeated before, in his head, whispering it again, again. ‘Archangel Michael, Archangel Michael, Archangel Michael.’ He tried to gather himself, but he felt broken into streams. “He looks like the greatest of them all, the finest and proudest angel in Heaven!”

‘It’s nakedness,’ he told himself. ‘That’s the problem. I’m averse to nudity.’

Poor little noodle and his gay awakening 😭😭😭

“And what if… I wanted to be an archangel, Baal?” Baal laughed, but in surprise. “The Father would have to choose you.” Likely seeing Lucifer’s faint frown, he added, “But I wouldn’t worry, brother. I can tell the Lord has great plans for you. Looking at you, speaking to you — I can feel His mercy.”

Lucifer noted the way multiple angels walked up to Gabriel, but he kept waving them away so they could continue chattering uninterrupted. There was a pleasant flutter in his chest at the gesture; Gabriel made him feel like he was interesting, which Lucifer had never really thought of himself as — distressingly beautiful, clumsy, and naive, yes, but never compelling.

“Our Divine Lord sent me,” and Lucifer nearly dropped his cup and fainted, “to deliver the news that He wishes to see you. He commands that you make the time to visit His garden immediately.”

Pretty fckin aggressive for a deadbeat dad to make commands like that lol

“I did not ask you to see me earlier because I thought you too young,” Lucifer’s heart swelled, “but you have grown little since your creation; you are still so rife with innocence. Your eyes are wide and frightful.”

“I want to know if I am yours. I said that I am, but I want to know if it is true, if I am really yours. Your angel.” “You want to know if you are mine.” “Yes, Father. Not an angel of beauty, nor of anything else, but an angel of God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, and all that I see.” He trembled, even knowing he’d just been scolded for it. “Because, Lord, what is there to be, if not yours?” Instead of answering, God returned Lucifer to the bed of flowers and said he should take the chance to lay in it some more.

So far away in the crowd was Michael, with that proud grin of his, one hand in the air, but he called out to the youngest angel still. “Lucifer! Lucifer!” And even with all their distance, their gazes met and locked. An intake of breath, then the exuberant shout: “Lucifer — the Lord has never made as fine an angel as you!”

And he looked upon himself, but not for long — still couldn’t meet the features of his face because they could spur a need, this need to take. To grab Lucifer and save him — what is there to save him from, in Heaven? — from himself. But maybe it was too late, even now, to save Lucifer; too early, before creation, it was too late.

“No.” Lucifer shook his head. “I’m not an angel of music.” “Then what is it that you are?” Phanuel moved to sit too. “Angel of celebration?” “Angel of worship.” ‘Like a flower blooming from my mouth.’ “Worship?” Rosier repeated then hummed. “That does seem to suit you.”

“There is nothing more beautiful than worship. Your splendor is like no other of my creations.”

“Yes, because you are God’s favorite, and because you are beautiful, and I want to be best friends with an archangel.” Baal drank from his cup again then added, “Your personality is alright too.”

“Not long. I’ll find you. And if I’m told to take to the stars again, I’ll just take you with me.”

“You’re like chocolate cooked in sugar,” Lucifer answered with a great smile. “Hm… Rosier is like a peach cobbler, and Asmodeus is like a spongy, sweet muffin.”

I love people who assign inanimate objects personalities and assign those to friends 🥺

“There is nothing more important than remaining clean. An angel that becomes impure becomes unworthy to live in paradise.”

🤨👀

“All that I say comes from a place of love.” ‘Is love meant to pierce?’ “As the angel of beauty, you must know that there exists no greater beauty than that of a well-kept garden, that which Eden is now and Earth will become when the time comes. During your creation, I planted a garden inside you with young flowers that I can see now are still not fully bloomed.”

What was he supposed to say? ‘Michael, you see, I’m terribly ashamed of my body, so much so that it’s transferred to being ashamed of all bodies.’

‘How terribly lonely that must be, to be so beautiful that others think of you a thorn.’”

“I have decided to help you. From now on, I will carry some of your burden. Transfer half your beauty to me, Lucifer, and stare at me all that you wish.” Just like that, the tension coiling Lucifer’s muscles stopped, then unraveled itself; the younger angel laughed quietly. “Go ahead. I’ll do a twirl, if you like.”

Instead, he fell to sleep too, smiling fondly, feeling snug, as the archangel wrapped his wings around him. Lucifer attempted to do the same. By the time dusk arrived, they were both being smothered by feathers.

And they tried to look at all that was in the Lord’s young garden, but they could hardly see anything more than each other.

“Tell me what has gotten into you — why did you run from me?” “I wondered if you’d chase me.” “Are you happy now that I did?” “Delighted.”

‘I feel aged. I feel as if you’ve aged me with your own hands, Michael. Ripened me. Like a red fruit, at the edge of a branch, hanging at its peak. Beautiful — and just about to fall.’

“Angels are perfect,” He’d replied, “they are whole, and they are eternal.” There was no need for them to devote themselves to anyone but their Father.

“It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? The most beautiful angel in Heaven and the strongest; don’t you think they complement each other? Like the two halves of an apple. Sometimes Michael comes over, and I see the way they finish each other’s sentences and how they do everything as if they were one. It’s so interesting, not even Asmodeus and I fit so snugly together.”

This, this here, could be worship. ‘This—’ Lucifer pressed an innocent kiss to the prince’s sweet, divine mouth. This could be religion.

‘There is another Eden, within me. I have it nestled between the heat of love. This is love.’ But when the sounds of heavy steps, approaching, came, they’d hastily rise. Gathering their clothes, taking each other’s hands, and laughing, they’d run away from Him, as fast they could. So that He doesn’t see, doesn’t notice. Two angels creating love, creating.

‘But what does it mean for a body to be perfect? Perfect for what? What does it mean for beauty to be perfect? Because there are different beauties — I’ve seen how daisies are pretty in a way roses quite aren’t. What am I for, Father? In what way am I perfectly made, for what purpose?’ To be something so abstract as beauty — it was as if Lucifer weren’t more than an abstraction himself, an idea, a fantasy, the figment of a lonely, longing imagination.

“When you are in Eden,” the Lord said, speaking not sternly, but not kindly, “I should have your full attention.” “Yes, my Lord.” “What is an angel of worship, if he is not good at that?” “I’m sorry, my Lord.” “Friendship is a beautiful thing. I created angels to be joyous, and nowhere easier can pleasantness be found than in loving one another, but you must ensure not to place any friends before your God.”

‘I like that I admire you, and that you admire me — that you are beautiful, and I am strong. We are really quite fitting together; our features, they complement each other. I wish I could make you see it. Let’s stand before a mirror together. I want you to see how we’re two halves of a single sun.’

And finally, the Father left the angel silent — having torn him.

Lucifer attempted to speak, but the soreness in his mouth became a blister. All around, angels kept whispering and speaking and mumbling that Lucifer must’ve done something terrible, he was asking for it, he had done something to invite punishment — that could be the only explanation.

There was nothing he could do, and Lucifer found that he could yell and shriek, but he couldn’t talk, not even whisper the words to his psalms.

‘How silly,’ Lucifer grumbled internally. ‘He is whatever the opposite of intelligent is.’ Because he felt creative, he tried, ‘Moron. Stupid. Imbecile.’ And those words came to exist, as simple as that.

‘You do not desire me.’ A pleased smile on Lucifer’s lips, as he lifted a tender gaze to his beloved, stern archangel’s face. ‘Because you know I am already yours.’

According to gossip — Lucifer’s voice had been stripped away because of something Michael had done. The angels didn’t know what had taken place in the cathedral, no one except Lucifer did, but they knew Uriel had scolded Michael the day before the punishment. The rumors jabbed their fingers at the archangel, claiming Michael had snapped at Uriel and failed to heed his warnings. All the angels said, ‘Prince, look at what you have done. You have taken away the most beautiful voice in Heaven. It is all your fault. Aren’t you our angel of strength? Look at what you have done.’

I am sobbing

I mouthed the words I had written for you, standing in the flower bed you made for you. But, did you see, I felt the last of me extinguish; it came to me that it was no longer your name I prayed to.’

“I never told you this — I always thought your mind was as beautiful as your face. I’m only saying it now because you can’t tease me.” Lucifer tittered a little. “Don’t tease me in your head, will you?”

‘Devour me like a pomegranate and stain your tongue.’

‘What is inside of you, archangel? Did Father plant flowers within this body too? I want to peel you open and suck the nectar from them.’

‘In vain, I love you; in vain, the dawn streaming onto you, beside me; in vain, I want to be yours, your angel. Angel of love, angel of Michael.’

“Disobedience did not exist before Lucifer; when we see the weeds of it sprout once again from him, we must crush the shoots. Do not get so distracted.” ‘Yes, yes, Father.’

I worried they would hurt us next, but then you took me, said, even never having seen me, “I take you, Uri, I take you, to have and hold. From here, forward, for the better and worse, for bountiful, for empty, incomplete, and together. Never will we part.” And we were one.’

I wished to yell at you, and Kimah said the words I thought up, because he could hear them, because we were each other. He flung them at you — every phrase of indignation in my heart — but you said to my beloved, “You wanted it all to end. I will make it end.” I watched you slaughter them, Father. I watched you beat my siblings against the ground, we begged you to stop, you wouldn’t, you called us ungrateful children, we said, “We are not yours,” and you punished us.’ Uriel

I was with Kimah, watching, and I felt brilliant relief, until my angel began to go limp in my hold. Kimah? Kimah? He smiled at me with all his mouths, and he tried to kiss me as he drifted.’ ‘No, Kimah, I thought then. No, Kimah. Come back to me, Kimah. Kimah. What is happening to you?’

Oh bby :(