Chapter Five

I hear Azazel mutter under his breath something about the throne.

I had never seen anything like it. It stood at least seventy feet tall and the size of a football field.

"I never realized how massive god was," Azazel looks up at the throne, "they dummy thick,"

"Did you just call the creator of everything dummy thick?" I look up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He gestures at the massive throne in front of us, "I know angels can't lie, so tell me I'm wrong,"

I look away, shaking my head with a smile, and hear a satisfied grunt come from him.

"Let's fly up there," I say stretching out my joints.

When he didn't reply I tore my gaze from the throne and settled it on him. I felt my heart lurch painfully.

His face was etched with something like sadness, and I hear what sounds like the crinkling of paper, and my heart filled with agony at the sight of Azazel's once beautiful black wings. He looks at his feet and spreads his wings wide.

In the time before the fall, Azazel had some of the most stunning wings in heaven, the angels always said that we were the yin and yang of heaven. My wings looked like the golden white light of the sun, and Azazel's were the shadows that it cast. The once soft black feathers of his wings were singed or missing in patches, and burn scars coated the places feathers were missing.

Every time he moved his wings the sound of paper crinkling and ripping echoed across the clouds. Pieces of feathers fell onto the clouds and singed a hole through the clouds only to fall to the Earth. I reach out and stroked one of the few feathers that were still intact, the plush soft kiss of the inky black feather against my skin brought tears to my eyes.

"Oh Azazel, your beautiful wings," I whisper sadly, a tear running down my face.

"We had to use something to shield our bodies when we fell or we would be nothing but ashes," he said stoically, "some angels managed to restore their wings after they fell, but I wasn't among those who could restore them,"

I run my hand over an angry black twisted scar, and I feel Azazel shudder. I stand in front of Azazel and wrap my arms around his waist. He tenses for a moment before I feel him wrap his arms around my shoulders. The crinkle of his wings disappearing into his back tore through the silent field. I feel him cringe in my arms against the sound and we held each other until the aches in our chests lessened.

"We have to find a way to get you up there," I say determined, unfurling my wings, "because I can't carry you,"

The soft golden, white wings explode from my back with a soft whoosh that stirs the cloud fluff.

"You are NOT going to fish me," he crosses his arms, "I will not subject myself to that again."

I flap my wings in annoyance, the feathers hissing and stirring up the cloudfluff.

"Stop being such a cherub," I roll my eyes, "I will send a rope down and you can climb up then."

He groans, "won't you just carry me up?" he gives me this sad excuse for puppy dog eyes, "I'm not that heavy."

This guy is almost twice my size, it would take forever to get him up there on my back. He might not be that heavy, he would just be awkward to carry.

"I guess we will just have to find some other way," he side-eyes me, smirking, "if you can't do it."

"Is that a challenge?" I ask him, "Are you challenging me right now?"

"Nah, I am just pointing out, you are probably right, you can't lift me," he looks me up and down, "you're too... tiny."

"Tiny?!" I spread my wings wide almost falling over.

'Damn these massive wings! I thought I would grow into them, but no, they seem to be growing with me.' Every angel's wings are unique to them, each set of wings is a different size, and/or colour. My wings are about an inch shorter than I am. It's annoying, I am just tall enough to keep them off the ground.

"Get on my back. I'll carry you up there." I say adjusting my stance, "I can't believe I'm letting you bait me into this."

He drapes himself over my back between my wings. With a grunt, I lift the both of us into the air.

"Up, up, and away!" he exclaims and points in the air, "just keep moving those wings, Princess!"

I groan, this was a terrible idea. 'Why would I let him goad me into this?' I ask myself, 'because when it comes to Azazel, you become a massive pushover.' Suddenly, I feel warmth rush to my cheeks as I quietly shake my head in denial. 'No way! Not true!'

"You are making me want to drop you," I mutter under my breath.

I feel his arms wrap tighter around me, my wings falter and we both drop about two feet. I can feel my heart racing, but I know it's not because of the drop.

"Hey! Careful there Meta," he chuckles and I feel my cheeks heat up again.

"You're heavy, and if you hold any tighter you'll choke me," I groan, hoping to distract myself, and keep flying us higher.

***

Finally, seventy feet of agony later we found it, the base of the throne. I drop Azazel onto the cloud with a thud and flop down beside him, cloudfluff flying around me. It doesn't look much different from heaven but, it is somehow brighter.

"Ah, my back!" Azazel groans, getting up like an old man, "You could've made the ride a little nicer you know!"

"I could've," I look over to him and stretch out my wings, "but, I didn't."

He helps me up and we both look around the field, "This place is huge, I mean, wow!" I grab Azazel's wrist and tug him toward the center.

"If we split up we can cover more ground," I state, "if you try to leave I will reel you back up here."

"Don't worry Princess, I won't leave you just yet," he laughs, "I go left, you go right?"

I nod and go right, wandering around and enjoying the scent and the view. I was about to go back to Azazel when I see a piece of silver sheet, coated in a layer of cloudfluff.

"Azazel! I-I found something," I yell over my shoulder.

"Oh is it a clue!" I hear Azazel's sizzling footsteps coming up behind me.

I look behind me to see him in a full-on detective costume holding a microscope and smoking a pipe. I raise my eyebrows at him.

"You look ridiculous," I comment, laughing.

"Read the clue Watson!" he exclaims pointing the microscope at me, Ignoring my comment.

I roll my eyes and look down at the silver sheet, reading the inscription.

"Dear my angels, it's not you, it's me, I just feel that we need to go our separate ways, don't try to find me because I don't want to be found," I feel the smile fade from my face, "you deserve someone better than me, yours, with love, God,"

I collapse to my knees in the cloudfluff, feeling my heartbreak into thousands of little tiny pieces. The air escapes my lungs and I can't seem to get it back.

"Princess, I know breakups are hard," Azazel pauses noticing my hyperventilating, "hey you have to breathe Princess, in through the nose, out through the mouth."

I do as he says closing my eyes and concentrating on the circles Azazel was drawing on my back. My breathing steadies and I look up at Azazel, tears rolling down my face.

"Azazel I'm so confused," I say between breaths, "God's gone Azazel, what do I do now? What about the angels?"