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I shut my eyes and listened to the push and pull of the ocean beneath me, to the waves as they crashed against the rocks and Helena’s walls. Sea-spray touched my face, and I couldn’t help but smile. This is how it’s meant to feel, I thought to myself, catching my thoughts drifting away on the ocean breeze for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Then I felt a presence come near me, and I floated back into myself. I knew who was behind me before I even turned around. I could feel his energy, his aura, and identify him purely based on that alone thanks to the little piece of Lucifer I now carried inside of me.
“Sarakiel,” said Abaddon.
He was the Abaddon I remembered, the one who had found me in the middle of the road. The one who had taken me into his bastion and protected me from harm. The one who had flown halfway across the world, into enemy territory, to win me back.
Though his angelic countenance hadn’t fully returned, and he remained partially marked, the size of his horns had drastically come down, and the marks and veins on his body that made his skin seem mottled and twisted had gone. This was by choice, though; a choice we had both made.
When Lucifer gave himself up to us, we all drank of his energy. That energy filled us, healed us of our injuries, and even cleaned us of our marks—if we wanted it to. Some demons had accepted this second chance at being angels, and most angels had jumped at the chance to turn back the clock and feel like themselves again.
Some of us, though, had chosen to wear the scars of our past.
Like Abaddon.
Like me.
The purple marks on my hands would never go away, but I didn’t want them to. They were a reminder of where I had come from and the things I had done, and forever they would serve as a reminder of what I could do if I wasn’t careful.
I smiled at Abaddon. “Hi,” I said.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked.
“Only my thoughts.”
Abaddon approached and stood next to me on the battlement. He turned his head to look at the ocean, but I looked at him and admired the way the sunlight danced across his mercurial eyes. “It is done,” he said.
“Done?”
“Micah has closed the portal to Heaven. Forever.”
“The machines?”
“Inert now that they have served their final purpose. Those lost souls trapped in Heaven will reincarnate instead of languishing on eternally in a broken realm, and from this moment on, no more souls will enter Heaven—not human, and not angel. Instead, they will reincarnate in another life.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “We did the right thing.”
“I fear some of us will grow to resent the choice we have made today.”
“Maybe… but for now we are united, and Heaven will no longer churn human souls. That’s all that matters.”
Abaddon seemed… quiet. Subdued. He wasn’t quite as happy as I had hoped he would be, and I knew why. “You still condemn yourself and your actions,” I ventured.
“I will forever regret the things I have done,” he turned his eyes toward me. “With one exception.”
“I know it doesn’t help, but Micah assured me the people who died after God did will simply wake up again, as if nothing had happened. The world will return to what it once was, so all the things you did?—”
“—I still did them. Whether or not the people I killed remain dead or wake up tomorrow remembering nothing of what happened to them, my own memories remain… as must the scars. I do not deserve to look as I once did, and I do not deserve you. I came here to tell you I will be leaving Helena tonight.”
“Leaving?” I frowned. “And going where?”
Abaddon shook his head. “I do not know. Wherever I am needed.”
Gingerly, I reached for his hand, brushing my thumb across his knuckles. “You’re needed here, Abaddon. I need you.”
“You are Sarakiel, a Lightbringer. Your Light now shines far more brightly than it ever did—the angels here will need you if they are going to build any form of lasting settlement for their kind.”
“Our kind. You’re an angel, too—and so are all the demons we helped. We have a chance at building an incredible world for our people, but I’m not going to do it without you by my side.”
