I, Devil (a love story)

Chapter Thirty Five: Meresin

I began by surveying the area with the greatest damage. There was a clean break along the edges of Fairyland, where Azazel cracked the dimension apart and let it fall into the Void. It broke in places where the Veil was thinnest. I could not predict that the cracking of dimensions would manifest in an Earthquake in reality along the North American fault lines. Yet it did. It happened.

While humans were dealing with the physical damage, I was doing the same but in Fairyland. I walked the edges of the break. The edge of the dimension was called the Gray Places, or sometimes the Gray Wastes. It is the shoreline. Beyond the Gray Places is the Void. According to Vassago, he watched layers of dimensions sink into the Void-- comparing it to the capsizing of the Titanic. He watched as Azazel, in his true form, punch holes in the Veil until it snapped in half. Then, the land of the Fairies and many Low Places went vertical before slowly absorbing into the Void.

Vassago had trouble describing it. Being a demon, he was both overjoyed by the destruction and chaos, but also horrified and afraid. He said he felt forever changed by the experience. He didn't know what he was seeing and took time to process it all into words. He lacked the language for what he was seeing. I felt sorry for him.

I have always had a neutral relationship with the fairies. Azazel was the one who largely spoiled the Devil's relationship with them. I knew it was unlikely that I would find a stray fairy in the Gray Places. Most creatures are too afraid of the Void's proximity to feel comfortable walking in the soft gray mist. In the distance I could see shadows. None of the stray spirits were human. I knew they were lost. I couldn't imagine how strange it would be to witness the collapse of entire dimensions.

Yet, it was all our reality. If Azazel could do this, then he could destroy everything. Though demons were notorious liars, Vassago was not lying when he said my brother was responsible. I knew it to be true. Azazel would not stop at this destruction. He was likely resting and planning for more. Why wouldn't he? As the Devil, he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Perhaps it was his purpose-- or our purpose all along.

Did the Creator make us, design us as fallen angels, to destroy him/her? Did the Creator make us just to dismantle creation? Was it akin to when I threw myself into the Void? I tried to kill myself long, long ago. As I pondered this question, I glanced to my right and looked at the Void. There it was, still and silent. It didn't frighten me so much as fill my shadow. It followed me as I contemplated my thoughts, like the moon to the Earth. What to do. What to do.

I would ask the Creator but I knew he could still not yet hear me. I could never forget the feeling of being seen by the Lord. I still did not have it. I would first ask why, why did he even let this happen? I could not yet even imagine the loss.

I was trying to process it. I was trying to imagine it. As I walked along the edges of the Gray Places, I wanted to cry out to him. I wanted to ask,

"Azazel, what did you do?"

How could you have done this? It is wicked, even for the most evil. It was a level of destruction no one could fathom. I knew so much was gone. I could feel it. I could feel it in my bones and inner workings. I even could feel the pain of my brothers. They all felt it, too. The loss wore a deep, heavy hole in us all. So many human consciousnesses were wiped out. They were just gone-- silenced. They did not even cry because they did not see it coming.

What was left was the rest of us.

Normally, we would sing. As angels, it was in our instinct to cry and weep together. We would sing the praises and the follies of the Creator. We would sing to communicate, to create, to celebrate. Since we were fallen, we could not. We did not. For political and practical reasons, we were solitary predators. Our songs of misery and pain were ours alone to bear. I walked through the Gray fog, quietly sobbing for the loss of what was now gone.