1. Azazel

Chapter one

Azazel

The Darkness and the Light

" T o think that the strongest knight in the empire has been reduced to the lowly, pitiful being that I see before me," cursed my Empress, Astaroth, as she glared down at me from one of the three thrones. "You used to represent all of my glory. You used to be a symbol of the power I wield. And now... you disgust me." She snarled down at me and my gut clenched.

"How could you allow a mere Guardian to bring you to such a state?" asked Empress Regan, the youngest of the three Ruling Empresses of the Hades Empire. My Empress was the second oldest.

"Answer us!" demanded Empress Lilith, the oldest of all the Empresses.

I knelt on the floor, my head bowed low. I knew better than to look them in their eyes, but I could feel their judgment. I was surrounded by the other Knights of the Round Court, to which I used to be the Master Knight, but I knew that was no longer my title. Not after what happened to me. Even now, I felt dirty and didn't understand what had happened three nights ago. That was how long I'd slept once I'd returned home. As a demon, I didn't need to sleep the way humans did. I could go weeks without sleeping and when I needed to, only a few hours were required. It had taken me seventy-two hours to recover and that left me even more confused as to what I had endured. As soon as I'd opened my eyes, I was transported before the Tribunal for this trial.

"I cannot explain what happened, Empresses," I said. I told no lies.

"Can't or won't?" Lilith asked me.

"Can't, Empress. I don't know what happened. I killed my third Guardian. He was to be your trophy. This one was bonded to his angel Champion as a Divine Weapon. His death was my gift to all of you."

"A ‘Divine Weapon'?" Empress Regan asked.

I nodded. "I know not what it all means, Empress, only that this Guardian was more powerful than any other."

"Go on," Empress Astaroth bade.

"But after my victory, I was attacked by the Heavens," I said, which was the best way I could explain the event.

"You reek of whatever it is inside of you... so revolting," said Empress Astaroth with a sneer and her words cut me to my core. For millennia, I had worshipped her and obeyed her every command. I was her favorite, how could she speak to me this way?

"His very presence offends this entire Tribunal," said Empress Regan.

"It offends this entire Empire," added Lilith.

Their words were as cruel as their souls. I didn't know why I felt pain at this rejection... why did my throat feel tight? I swallowed to try to relieve the burn that irked me. My heart ached, which was very unfamiliar, what was this... this thing I felt?

"Please, Empresses, allow me a chance to fix this," I begged.

"He is your Knight, Astaroth, do with him whatever you will," Lilith said with a wave of her hand.

"Get him out of my sight," said Regan, and she turned from me.

Astaroth looked down at me and it wasn't just because of the distance between us, or the fact that she sat up on the Royal Dias. It was because she saw me as lower than the worst human soul to be expelled into our domain. I swallowed again and blinked back the wetness that threatened to seep from my eyes. Tears... never had I cried until that day. I knew that for sure now, and here at this moment, the turmoil I felt made me want to be so weak.

"Though it pains me to do this, I simply must sever our link, Azazel. Your corruption seeps from you into me and it is beyond foul," Astaroth said.

I raised my head, my eyes on her. "No!" I gasped.

"Lower your eyes, demon!" Astaroth yelled and I quickly bowed again. Hearing that she was about to sever my link to her left me in a state of shock. My connection to Hell would be gone. I wouldn't be able to return just by my will. The doors would be locked to me forever unless she reinstated our link. On top of that, the power she shared would be gone, like the clipping of an umbilical cord from mother to child. That was what Astaroth was to me. She created me to serve her and I did so loyally, faithfully, for over ten thousand years.

This couldn't be happening!

"Please, Empress, do not do this. I have been your humble and dedicated servant since my creation," I pleaded. I'd never begged for anything in my life. Never needed to, but I found myself groveling, and hearing the words tumble from my mouth sickened me. My body shook with the rage, pain, and frustration I felt that I barely kept contained.

Empress Astaroth rose and walked over to me and stood a few inches away. "Reveal," she said and a sigil appeared before my eyes and I'd been kneeling in the middle of it.

"No, NO!" I yelled as I looked up at her, my eyes wide in my desperation to get her to give me another chance. I tried to move from the sigil, but couldn't. All I could do was look on in horror.

"You failed me," she said, then sliced her palm with her nail. The thick, red blood dripped onto the sigil and a bright flame shot up from the sigil, surrounding me, and I felt a rush of energy flow through me, then an emptiness followed by blackness.

***

When I came to, I was in my bed where I'd been before I had been transported. I lay there feeling emotions I didn't have an understanding of. My eyes were wet as tears flowed from them. My chest ached and it felt like my ribs were tightening around my heart. What was this? I curled into a fetal position and held myself and cried because I couldn't stop the myriad of feelings that held me captive.

I'd been abandoned by my own kind, made an outcast. I was still a demon, but not completely. I no longer had a home. No longer had a place where I belonged. I wasn't human, wasn't a demon, wasn't an angel.

What was I going to do now?

***

It'd been a week since I'd been cursed by the heavens and abandoned by my Empress right before I was cast out of Hades. A demon without access to Hades might as well be nothing at all. The barmaid came to my table and refilled my brandy. I couldn't get drunk, no matter how much I imbibed, but I did fancy the taste of alcohol. It used to bring me some level of pleasure, but now, I felt nothing. For thousands of years, I walked the Earth, a master of it and every being living on it. I could look into the hearts of men and know exactly how to bring them to their knees.

I roamed the lands from the moment Cain killed his brother Abel. It was me who whispered into his ear that a rock would make a great weapon. It wasn't hard to manipulate humans, they were so susceptible. They needed leaders and beings to believe in whether it was religion or money, one would be their god. I found them entertaining, like fish in a bowl. I was the one who taught them how to make weapons. I never told them what to do with them, never needed to. I knew they'd use those tools to kill each other.

And the blood they shed in my honor empowered me, making me the strongest demon Knight in the Empire. And yet, there I was, sitting in a dank bar on the riverbed mourning my lost glory. I had no idea how to get it back, either. Did I need to kill someone innocent to rid myself of this corruption? Should I seek out another Guardian and kill them? Would that undo what had been done? I had to try something.

I downed the brandy and walked out of the bar in search of someone to kill. It didn't take me long to come upon a church. So many neighborhoods were littered with them. Institutions of indoctrination. I laughed at the steepled roof with the cross at the tip. Contrary to what propaganda existed, demons could enter churches and all hallowed ground. And humans were to blame. I ran my fingers over one of the polished pews, smirking at the fine craftsmanship. I let my eyes roam over the stained-glass windows to the decorative alter, then walked up to it.

"Can I help you?"

I turned to see the priest standing near the confessional. His black smock and white collar were as neat as his hair and beard.

" Can you help me?" I asked, then began to step closer. I wondered if he would be able to sense what I was. Most humans couldn't, but there were some that had the gift. Many of them became Guards for the Guild.

"I am here to listen, my son. I can offer you guidance," he said, then gestured toward the confessional.

I nodded and he went into one and I entered the other half. "You'll forgive me if I don't go for all the pomp and circumstance," I said. I heard him swallow and wondered if he was preparing himself for my confession.

"I will listen and do what I can to help your troubled soul, my son," he said.

"Can you forgive my sins?" I asked.

"If you are truly repentant, you must ask the lord for his forgiveness."

"How do I know if I'm forgiven?" I was looking at him through the wooden latticework covering the window, but he was facing away from me.

"You will know in your heart. You will know in your conscience," he said.

"Let me ask you something, Father. Who do you think will get into Heaven? The atheist who lived their life being good to their fellow man and honest? The person who'd give a stranger a place to stay or the clothes off their back? Or the person who claims to be Christian all the while harming their fellow man and hypocritically judging people? Going out of their way to treat people who don't look, believe, or act like them as less than? Who do you think Heaven will welcome?" I ran my fingers through my hair. "And if you'd said the latter, is that the Heaven you want to spend eternity in? With all those assholes?"

"Heaven and God welcome all who repent," the priest said.

I snorted, then laughed. "Such a typical response because you don't know. I'll tell you the truth. God doesn't forgive sinners, no matter how hard they beg for it. Do you want to know why?"

"He does, my child. If you truly want his forgiveness," the priest urged.

"You've already sinned. You've had your fun. You've hurt your victims. How can God forgive you when they can't or haven't? Is that fair?" I asked.

"Fair?"

"Yes. Is it fair for the victim who was innocent to then have to spend eternity with the person who sinned against them? Who hurt them, who took away their joy, all because they said they finally felt bad about it?" I asked.

"When a person gives themselves to our Lord and Savoir, there is no pain. There is no resentment, there is no regret once they pass on and are accepted into the hands of God. Once they are welcomed into his home," the priest said those words as if he truly believed them.

I laughed then and the sound coming from me wasn't human. It was enough to make the priest finally look at me and I could smell and see the terror starting to creep in. I smiled then, allowing my fangs to grow, then I slipped my fingers through the latticework, gripping it.

The priest's eyes grew wide as he saw my claws extend and turn black. He shrank back into the tiny space. "W-what—what are you?" he stammered.

"I'm what tortures the souls you believe you've absolved of all their sins," I said. "Hell is full of souls who assumed that with a few words of contrition, they could wipe the slate clean with their last breath. Oh, don't worry... there is a Heaven, but that God is not as merciful as you would have your flock believe. There is still a debt to pay," I said the last part with a growl that had the priest shaking in fear.

"H-how can you enter the house of God?" the priest stammered.

I laughed. "The ‘house of God'? God only has one house and this isn't it," I said.

"God is all around us. You will not darken this place with your evil!"

I leaned forward so he could better see my glowing indigo eyes. "Can't you see that I'm a tortured soul, Father? Or are your words only for humans so that they can lie to themselves? How arrogant when humans think whatever good fortune they receive is God's blessing as if they are more worthy than the next believer. Did they ever consider that it was the work of my kind because of their very arrogance?"

The priest was sweating, his entire body pressed to the other side of the small space as if that would keep him out of my reach. "L-leave t-t-this place, you foul thing!"

I ripped the latticework out of my way, then punched through the woodwork as the priest screamed his prayers louder while shrinking in fear. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, my indigo eyes glowing even brighter in my rage. "Why do you fear me? Whether you die tonight or fifty years from now, don't you believe you're going to a better place? Where's your faith?" I snarled.

He closed his eyes tight, too afraid to look at me, but he didn't cease his praying. I leaned forward and inhaled his fear. "Do you think you'll be saved? Why do you want to be? Why are you praying... haven't you done enough of that to get you into those pearly gates you covet?"

I pulled him through the hole I'd made in the confessional then slung him through the door, sending his body crashing into two of the pews. He cried out and fell to the floor, holding his back that I was sure would have a bruise on it. I felt a sharp jab of pain shoot through my head and stomach, making me grimace. I groaned because it was a discomforting sensation. I've never experienced illness of any kind and whatever just happened was an anomaly. The pain faded and I stepped out of the wreckage of the confessional and walked over to him, kneeling before him. I hated him and everything he represented, and I was eager to relieve him of this mortal coil.

"Allow me to send you to the God who cursed me," I said, my voice deep and laced with all of the menace I felt toward everything and everyone. I drew my fist back to punch him, a blow that was sure to end this brittle being, but a strong wave of nausea attacked me and I fell back and leaned over, vomiting bile onto the floor. My head throbbed like someone was hammering it and my stomach felt like I was being kicked repeatedly. The sickness was crippling and left me weak and shivering afterward. My body aching all over, my head reeling.

"My God did save me," the priest said as he scrambled away from me.

I growled and tried to attack him again when another bout of nausea seized me. It was enough to give the priest a chance to run. Only when he was out of my presence and the desire I had to kill him faded, did the sickness and pain also subside.

"What the fuck!" I cursed and dabbed at the sweat that beaded my forehead. I had never experienced such a feeling and I was appalled by something happening to me that was so... human.

Furthermore, I couldn't understand why it had happened. Was this curse cast upon me to blame? Slowly, I climbed to my feet and shook the last of that repulsive feeling away. Looked like I wouldn't be killing anyone innocent today. I paused in the threshold of the church, because a depressing thought came to me. What if I couldn't kill anyone at all? What if I had to go through eternity with this pathetic shell of a demon? I closed my eyes at the very possibility that my life could become so insignificant. What would be the point of even existing?

"Want me to end it for you?"

I opened my eyes at the sound of an unfamiliar feminine voice and saw a human before me. No, not a normal human, a Guardian. I snarled, a low growl coming from me as I glared at the bitch. "Just the person I wanted to see."

If I could kill one of them, maybe I could reverse this curse. I conjured up my sword and armor and the Guardian did the same, her two swords glowing white. She was another Guardian that was fully bonded with her Champion, but maybe not a Divine Weapon. Her weapons bore the same glowing color as the first two Guardians I had killed. I didn't bother with small talk, I was on a mission. I charged forward, my sword raised for the attack and she had taken a defensive stance. We were inches apart when all of a sudden, another bout of sickness took hold and I doubled over, puking more bile onto the ground. My sword and armor absorbed into me as the pain in my arm felt like I'd been struck by lightning. As for my target, she had been thrust backward, but had caught her footing and was watching me in my pitiful state.

That was humiliating.

"Well, well, isn't this interesting," the female Guardian said. "Say goodbye, you scourge!"

I was too sick to defend myself and she brought her blade down upon me, but before it could strike my flesh, a powerful blast sent her flying back. She landed hard, dozens of feet from me, and lay there for a few seconds, holding her sore areas. She groaned and sat up, looking at me with what I assumed was the same expression I was giving her.

We were both awestruck.

How could her weapon not be able to harm me? She manifested her gun and aimed it at me. Right before she pulled the trigger, I thought about evading the bullet, but then I thought, why bother? Death was more welcoming at this point. The bullet fired from her gun, glowing white with its holy essence, and I watched as it traveled through the air toward my chest. When it struck, I was knocked back to the ground, but the bullet ricocheted off my body and became embedded in a nearby tree.

We both turned to look at the holy metal still glowing in the damaged bark of the tree. It began to disintegrate the way my body would have had that bullet entered me. Nothing was left of the large oak tree save the holy bullet that killed it.

"My god!" the Guardian gasped, then turned to look at me. "So, it's true?"

I turned from the bullet resting in the grass to her. "What's true?"

She looked at the church's door and I knew why. Out of the corner of my eye, I'd seen movement and knew that the priest, our one witness, had been watching our little exchange. She groaned and then rose to her feet. "Don't go anywhere. We have a lot to discuss."

I climbed back to my feet. The sickness that had rendered me vulnerable was now gone as well as my urge to kill another Guardian. I watched as she spoke with the priest and he nodded, the look in his eyes seemed glazed over and I wondered if she was making him forget what he'd witnessed. Or was she making him forget ever meeting me and my little confession altogether? That would be most unfortunate if she did. Freaking him out was the highlight of my night.

She turned from him and began descending the stairs. "Come with me," she commanded and I remained in place. She was a few feet away from me when she stopped, but didn't turn around. "Please," she added.

I sighed, but followed.

***

She led me to a nearby park, and there we both sat on a bench. A demon Knight and a Celestial Guardian. "Tell me what's going on and how do I fix it?"

She chuckled. "There is no ‘fixing' it."

I turned to face her. "I don't believe that."

She shrugged. "You killed a Guardian who was a Divine Weapon, on the night of an eclipse."

"So?"

She snarled, then sighed as if trying to keep her temper in check. "Right before the Guardian died, they made a Death Wish and gave you a glorious destiny you don't deserve."

I hissed. "Speak in clear terms," I snapped, because I didn't know what a "Death Wish" was.

She huffed. "You received the next calling of the Champion. The Angel's Kiss. Normally, in the death of a Guardian and their Champion, their souls go up to Heaven. Their duty is done. When a new Guardian is called, the next Archangel who is to become his Champion would have received the powers and knowledge of the one before him through the Angel's Kiss. But in your case, it was given to you."

I was still confused. "I have no knowledge of Heaven that an Archangel would have had, nor his powers."

"But you have his calling."

I frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"It means you're one of us now," she said.

I scoffed. "The hell I am!"

"I'm sorry, do you have something else you need to be doing?" she mocked.

I opened my mouth to give her my usual wisecracks, but then changed my mind. The truth was that I didn't. I'd been ready to give up everything back there and accept my death in order to end my existence that no longer had a purpose.

Her expression softened just a bit. "I don't like that this has happened. You're a demon and should have been killed tonight. But you are a Champion and soon, you will be called to your own Guardian when it is time. There is nothing you can do to stop the Calling or change your destiny. Consider this a gift and not a curse. A chance to redeem your soul."

I laughed, but it wasn't because I found what she'd said particularly humorous. "What makes you think my soul needs redeeming?"

"You've received the Angel's Kiss. It doesn't matter if you think your soul needs to be redeemed... you'll have no choice," she said.

I lifted my head to the stars in the sky and sighed. "So, it would seem the night I killed your Guardian, the real victory went to your side."

She snorted. "That's debatable. From what I see before me, I don't understand why a demon was given such a coveted privilege. You're not worthy."

"Finally, we agree on something. I didn't deserve this curse."

"Oh, you lost me there. You do deserve to be stopped by any means," she said with a chuckle. "You can't kill anyone innocent. Your days as the Demon of War are over. Can you even convince them to kill each other?"

I remained silent because, for some reason, I hadn't felt the motivation to do it since that terrible night. But now, I was curious to see if I could.

"Can you?" she asked.

"I haven't tried... I'll let you know," I said sarcastically.

She shrugged. "I bet you can't. You probably don't even want to."

I sneered because she was right.

Again, she chuckled as if she already knew the answer.

"But, how can I be the Champion if I can't even kill anyone?" I said, getting back to the topic.

She rolled her eyes. "You're really stuck on that, aren't you?"

"It's fun to kill people," I said with a smirk.

"You'll be commanded by your Guardian and won't be allowed to kill innocents. "

I gave a half-hearted laugh. "I've been alive long enough to witness God's wrath where plenty of innocents died. Why be so hypocritical when it comes to his Guardians and Champions?"

She shrugged. "It just is. A Guardian's job is to protect the people in the world from evil. A Champion's job is the protect their Guardian. You'll be called to fight for him or to become his weapons for battle. Until then, you won't be able to harm whomever you want." She smirked. "I bet it hurts, doesn't it? Not being able to be a complete asshole."

"It does," I admitted, as there was no point in lying. She saw first-hand what happened to me when I tried.

"And to think, I was speaking figuratively." She rose from the bench and turned to look down at me. "It is extra gratifying to know that it also hurts you literally. I hope you suffer every time you even think about killing someone innocent. I hope your body is wracked with pain if you try to live the life you once did. Let it be a constant reminder that you are on the road to redemption. A gift not many demons are afforded."

"A gift, my ass," I grumbled with a cocked brow and in my most menacing tone.

She nodded. "Yes, a gift." She turned to walk away but paused. "Don't bother to come to the Headquarters of the Celestial Guardians Guild. You will not be welcomed there."

I smirked. "And here I was under the impression that I was one of you?"

"I shiver at the thought of what kind of Guardian will be born who is supposed to bond with the likes of you."

I didn't let her insults hurt me even though I found myself having... what humans called emotions. No insult had hurt me more than the ones that came from the three Empresses of the Hades Empire.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Guardian Terri Uche. Remember my name. We will be watching you, Azazel," she said as if that was a warning, then she walked away.

I didn't bother to follow, I had my answers. There was no way I was going to accept this Angel's Kiss or whatever the fuck it was. I refused to be used by God's warriors, a mere tool to be commanded. I was Azazel for fuck's sake. The most powerful demon Knight in the world. I would find a way to restore myself if it was the last thing I did.