An Angel's Mercy (Fic and Fanart)
Feb. 12th, 2005 07:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsuru_sanAs promised, more Bible slash. The fanfic was loosely inspired by this pic 
. Asmodeus ends up squirming for a change, but at least he's a good liar...
Title: An Angel’s Mercy [edited December 26, 2008]
Fandom: Bible
Pairing(s): Asmodeus/Raphael one-sided
Rating: PG-13 (for some violence)
Summary: While investigating heavenly activities on earth, Asmodeus gets into trouble and must seek help from Raphael.
Notes: Set around 20 – 10 BC.
It was late afternoon, and the midday heat in Bethlehem's cramped little marketplace had finally begun to ebb. In one section of the market—a corner where two mud-brick buildings met—was a merchant selling fruit, his wares displayed in barrels and baskets underneath a red cloth canopy. The merchant was a plump man, well-dressed. The previous couple of harvests had been very good to him and his family.
The fruit vendor was just taking a swig of water when a new customer, a slender, dark-haired man, came over and regarded some fruit. He was slim and tan and wore a brown traveler's cloak over dark robes and black boots. The merchant quickly set his water skin aside and smiled warmly, trying to make the man feel welcome. If the quality of his clothing and boots was any indication, this customer clearly had money to spare.
Pulling aside a grey scarf that covered his face, the stranger bent closer to better peruse the fruit seller's ripe wares. Dark eyes that were a pretty garnet color, odd but not unattractive, inspected the fruit critically, his attention drawn to a crate of shiny, round apples. Selecting a piece, the stranger weighed the fresh, red fruit in the palm of his hand, and finding it to his liking, he drew a few coins from a purse strapped to his belt.
The merchant took the coins, nodding his head respectfully. "Pleasure doing business with you, sir."
Garnet eyes flashed scarlet for barely a second—blink and you missed it—and the man smiled pleasantly. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine." Despite his cordial tone, something about him made the fruit seller shudder, and he murmured a brief pray for protection after the stranger had walked away.
Ambling easily through some of the markets' more narrow side-streets, little clouds of dust swirled around the traveler's boots. He finally stopped in one of the dim back streets, leaning against one of the walls that formed the entrance. The whole area and all the back alleys were covered in shadows, making it difficult to see anything.
The stranger liked it that way. He felt most comfortable surrounded by shadows because he was their master. Not a human at all, he was the archdemon Asmodeus, Marquis of Shadows...among other things.
As he stood in the back alley entrance eating his fruit, Asmodeus's eyes flickered again from dull garnet to bright scarlet and back again. The pupils changed too, sometimes shrinking to serpentine slits of black. Being a demon of considerable rank, Asmodeus had a harder time hiding the true appearance of his eyes, even in the human body that he had been using for the past few days. It was important though that he be here, investigating. There was a great deal of talk that Heaven was plotting something of considerable importance centered on Bethlehem or close by. Unwilling to leave anything to chance, Lucifer had ordered Asmodeus to go to Earth and find out whatever he could.
Asmodeus munched grumpily on his apple. This was a dull job to be sure, but he'd had worse. The demon's eyes flickered up as another person ambled by. Asmodeus couldn't make out the man's face for some reason, but he was dressed entirely in black. Probably some shady dealer.
"Pardon me," the other said, but the backstreet entrance was too small for two grown men to occupy it simultaneously, and as the newcomer moved past Asmodeus, their shoulders brushed. There was a crackling like electricity in the air, and the half-eaten fruit slipped from the demon's hand and rolled to a stop in the dust.
Divine and infernal power sparked through the heavy air. Asmodeus drew back, hissing like a cornered serpent. An angel! And a familiar one at that. The Marquis was certain that he'd felt this aura before... Suddenly the celestial being's vague appearance began coalescing into distinguishable features, and the demon growled as the pieces and fragments came together.
"Asmodeus!" the angel gasped in surprise, recognizing the demon at once. With his short and wavy chestnut hair, grey eyes, and noticeable height, the angel rather stood out from the humans in this area. He'd probably been using his powers to muddle the perception of anyone who looked at him. No wonder the Marquis had paid him no mind at first.
"Raguel," the archdemon hissed, smoldering eyes narrowed. Thrones Raguel, one of the Seven Archangels of the Lord. This was bad.
For a moment the two beings remained frozen in shock, but only for a moment. Ropes of shadow lashed out from the street's murky, darkened corners and entwined themselves about Raguel's limbs, almost knocking him to the dusty ground. Two wings of pure white spread out from under the archangel's black cloak though, and Raguel took to the air. He had little room in the small street, but he hovered with the practiced ease of one who had been flying since before the beginning of Time. A gleaming, flaming broadsword materialized in the angel's hands, and with two swift strokes, he hacked the shadows away.
Realizing that this was not a fight he could win while in a human form, Asmodeus drew more shadows out from the darkness and wrapped them around himself like a shroud. Melting into their midst, the archdemon hugged the wall, slinking away to make an escape back into the noise and crowds of the market.
Unlike Asmodeus though, Raguel was not limited by the guise of a human body and so the angel's full aura was able to flare to life, and the shadows dispersed or burst apart with audible little shrieks. Left alone and exposed, Asmodeus shrank back against the dirty wall; the blazing light of a fully manifested and high-ranking angel scorched the archdemon. Wings folding, Raguel dove with sword raised, and Asmodeus dodged blindly, his eyes closed against the searing Light.
The angel missed his mark but not entirely, and the demon screamed as the holy sword stabbed through his shoulder and into the sandy brick wall behind him. Divine energy spread from the sword right into Asmodeus's skin, and the pain was unbearable. The ground was yanked out from under him, and he felt like he was falling, maybe even Falling. Such agony, and logic fled in that second, all thoughts boiled down to get away. With a furious and desperate struggle, heedless of causing further injury, the Marquis jerked away from the blade, cloth and flesh tearing as the demon pulled himself free.
Unsheathing his claws, he swung his arm in a wide arc, aiming for where he thought Raguel's face would be. The Marquis's efforts were rewarded by a pained yelp, and the brightness surrounding the archangel dimmed briefly. Taking his chance, Asmodeus sped off like a shot. He tried to call the shadows to come and shield him, but they didn't respond.
Running into the bustling market, the demon zigzagged through the motley camouflage of humanity before diving and hiding under an ox cart. He was dusty and hurt and humiliated yet safe, safe, but not really safe. Raguel wouldn't dare enter the crowded marketplace with halo shining and wings outstretched, but he wouldn't quit the chase either. No, Asmodeus couldn't stay here! Panic kept his pulse skittering at a frantic pace, his heart pounding in his ribcage. He had to move, had to go somewhere. He would leave the city. It would take Raguel a little while to determine whether or not Asmodeus had left Bethlehem, and even if the demon just holed up nearby, that might give him enough time to recover.
Resolved, Asmodeus tried to make a run for the open city gates, but twice his nerve failed him. On the third attempt, he finally got his legs under him and bolted for the gate. Even in this body, he could still move fast, and all anyone saw—if they even did see him—was a black blur, gone in a blink. Asmodeus could easily outstrip any mortal, but he couldn't outrun the pain. The demon's shoulder burned, and Asmodeus felt his pace slackening already, not even half a mile from the city.
Tripping and stumbling, Asmodeus staggered down a small grassy hill and half-sat half-fell beside the road that led into Bethlehem. His arm ached as his lungs gulped ragged breaths. He almost blacked out, and it was then that he felt the angelic presence, very near and coming closer. So Raguel hadn't lingered in the city after all... Asmodeus wanted to stand and fight, anything but lie here pathetically; however, he couldn't seem to rouse himself to the task. Defeated, he lay where he was, the ground cool against his cheek and the footsteps coming closer. They stopped right in front of his covered face, and through the double vision, Asmodeus made out worn beige boots. Not Raguel. Another angel then?
"Sir?" the stranger called nervously. "Are you alright?"
With an unpleasant amount of effort, the demon turned his head to glance at his newest opponent. Garnet eyes widened, and Asmodeus stared up in shock before quickly looking away again. On the road in front of the demon was the archangel Raphael. Unlike Raguel, this holy being was in human form; he held a walking stick in one hand and was wearing a dusty traveling cloak over his drab mortal clothes. Two archangels in one town? So the rumors were true after all, something important was definitely going on...
For the moment, sincere worry clouded Raphael's green eyes. He stopped short though when he reached down to touch Asmodeus and shivered as if he were suddenly chilled. Asmodeus cursed inwardly, realizing the healer still sensed his muted powers. The demon clutched his cloak tightly and covered more of his face, hoping that Raphael would not figure out who he had stumbled across.
Asmodeus cringed involuntarily as Raphael's power ghosted over him, reading his aura, but the angel did not seem to realize exactly who he was looking at. He must have sensed something though because in the next second, Raphael drew back and gripped his walking stick like a staff. "Demon!" he accused. "What are you doing here?"
Damn angel, Asmodeus swore silently. Thinking fast, he held his hands out pleadingly, pretending to cower in utter terror which was a great deal easier than it should have been. "Oh, please, Great Angel, do not harm me! I am but a lowly emissary!" he lied, realizing that Raphael still did not recognize him.
Raphael narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting Asmodeus even though he had no idea who the demon was. "Whose emissary?" he asked, calm but forceful, his tone brooking no argument. "Tell me at once. And no lies."
"As-smodeus, your Grace," the demon answered, adding the stammer for effect. He was quite pleased with how convincing he sounded; hurt as he was, he certainly looked unthreatening. If he could just get away from these angels and find some place dark and quiet to tend to his injury, Asmodeus was certain he'd be alright. At least Raphael could be reasoned with...
Raphael sucked in a breath of air. "I should've known…" he muttered. "What business does…does he have here?"
If he hadn't been in such pain, Asmodeus would have been delighted to see that Raphael couldn't even bear to speak his name. "To investigate the presence of the Archangel Raguel in a place of his continued interest. You've met my Master, haven't you?" he asked slyly, unable to resist a little taunting, a little more gauging of the angel's emotions. "Asmodeus?" he added coyly as if Raphael hadn't already known who he was referring to.
"Unfortunately." The healer's voice was serene yet displeased and not nearly as ruffled as Asmodeus had hoped it would be. "I should just let Raguel deal with you…"
Realizing that perhaps he'd gone too far, the demon hastily backtracked a bit. "Oh, please," he begged, clutching Raphael's robes in a most piteous fashion. A lick of genuine fear edged into the demon's voice, and his sympathy show was almost not an act now. "Please do not reveal me to him! Not again!"
"Again?" the healer echoed, surprised etched on his fair features. Then he caught sight of the gash in Asmodeus's arm which was visible now that the demon's arms weren't covered with the cloak. Any misgivings immediately fled from the angel's face. "You're hurt!" His voice radiated genuine concern now.
Asmodeus tensed slightly when Raphael bent towards him, reaching for his wounded arm. Convincing Raphael to release him was one thing, but letting the angel mend him was entirely another. What if he found out who Asmodeus truly was? It would be a catastrophe!
"No! Don't touch me!" He edged away from the archangel, his scarf almost coming off. "Leave me be!" His voice was nearly a frantic hiss. "I shall heal on my own."
Raphael pursued, kneeling on the ground beside Asmodeus and taking hold of his arm. "Don't be foolish. That wound may have been dealt by Raguel, but it will take only a moment for me to repair the damage."
Asmodeus shuddered as Raphael's gloved hands held him, and he felt the angel's aura even more strongly now that they were touching. Though he would never ever, even under torture, admit it later, the archdemon had begun to feel genuinely terrified. "Really, don't. Please. It's fine."
"What are you saying? It's not fine at all! The cut is entirely infected with holiness; it needs immediate attention." Raphael's cloak slipped from his shoulders and fell to the ground as he tried to hold Asmodeus still, but the demon kept struggling. The angel held on, gentle yet unrelenting, and waited for Asmodeus to exhaust himself. "Please allow me to help. I promise I shall not hurt you."
Asmodeus tried to pull away again while still attempting to keep his face covered. However, the demon was unable to utter more than a half formed refusal before a strange sensation washed over him. It hurt slightly, the healing process. His flesh re-knitting itself was far from pleasant. Looking up, Asmodeus paled with fear as he watched Raphael's serene face. The angel's eyes were closed, but the demon worried—quite justifiably—that he would soon be discovered.
However, within a little over a minute the burning subsided, and Asmodeus found himself staring into Raphael's unsuspecting springtime eyes. Quickly he looked away lest his own garnet eyes reveal him.
Still not knowing who he had just helped, Raphael merely released Asmodeus's arm. "Go in peace," he told the demon with the all the sincerity natural for an angel. Standing, Raphael added, "And I advise you to actually go. Raguel does not give up easily."
Asmodeus nodded wordlessly as the disguised archangel walked off toward the town. For the first time in centuries, the demon found himself completely and utterly bewildered. Asmodeus stood, feeling fine but so confused. Why would the angel do that? What could possibly make the healer want to help an enemy? Asmodeus would not ever have let Raphael go if their positions had been reversed. There was no way he would show mercy to any angel.
That would never happen.
—End—
*glances at last couple lines* Could that be foreshadowing?! *evil grin*
. Asmodeus ends up squirming for a change, but at least he's a good liar...Title: An Angel’s Mercy [edited December 26, 2008]
Fandom: Bible
Pairing(s): Asmodeus/Raphael one-sided
Rating: PG-13 (for some violence)
Summary: While investigating heavenly activities on earth, Asmodeus gets into trouble and must seek help from Raphael.
Notes: Set around 20 – 10 BC.
It was late afternoon, and the midday heat in Bethlehem's cramped little marketplace had finally begun to ebb. In one section of the market—a corner where two mud-brick buildings met—was a merchant selling fruit, his wares displayed in barrels and baskets underneath a red cloth canopy. The merchant was a plump man, well-dressed. The previous couple of harvests had been very good to him and his family.
The fruit vendor was just taking a swig of water when a new customer, a slender, dark-haired man, came over and regarded some fruit. He was slim and tan and wore a brown traveler's cloak over dark robes and black boots. The merchant quickly set his water skin aside and smiled warmly, trying to make the man feel welcome. If the quality of his clothing and boots was any indication, this customer clearly had money to spare.
Pulling aside a grey scarf that covered his face, the stranger bent closer to better peruse the fruit seller's ripe wares. Dark eyes that were a pretty garnet color, odd but not unattractive, inspected the fruit critically, his attention drawn to a crate of shiny, round apples. Selecting a piece, the stranger weighed the fresh, red fruit in the palm of his hand, and finding it to his liking, he drew a few coins from a purse strapped to his belt.
The merchant took the coins, nodding his head respectfully. "Pleasure doing business with you, sir."
Garnet eyes flashed scarlet for barely a second—blink and you missed it—and the man smiled pleasantly. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine." Despite his cordial tone, something about him made the fruit seller shudder, and he murmured a brief pray for protection after the stranger had walked away.
Ambling easily through some of the markets' more narrow side-streets, little clouds of dust swirled around the traveler's boots. He finally stopped in one of the dim back streets, leaning against one of the walls that formed the entrance. The whole area and all the back alleys were covered in shadows, making it difficult to see anything.
The stranger liked it that way. He felt most comfortable surrounded by shadows because he was their master. Not a human at all, he was the archdemon Asmodeus, Marquis of Shadows...among other things.
As he stood in the back alley entrance eating his fruit, Asmodeus's eyes flickered again from dull garnet to bright scarlet and back again. The pupils changed too, sometimes shrinking to serpentine slits of black. Being a demon of considerable rank, Asmodeus had a harder time hiding the true appearance of his eyes, even in the human body that he had been using for the past few days. It was important though that he be here, investigating. There was a great deal of talk that Heaven was plotting something of considerable importance centered on Bethlehem or close by. Unwilling to leave anything to chance, Lucifer had ordered Asmodeus to go to Earth and find out whatever he could.
Asmodeus munched grumpily on his apple. This was a dull job to be sure, but he'd had worse. The demon's eyes flickered up as another person ambled by. Asmodeus couldn't make out the man's face for some reason, but he was dressed entirely in black. Probably some shady dealer.
"Pardon me," the other said, but the backstreet entrance was too small for two grown men to occupy it simultaneously, and as the newcomer moved past Asmodeus, their shoulders brushed. There was a crackling like electricity in the air, and the half-eaten fruit slipped from the demon's hand and rolled to a stop in the dust.
Divine and infernal power sparked through the heavy air. Asmodeus drew back, hissing like a cornered serpent. An angel! And a familiar one at that. The Marquis was certain that he'd felt this aura before... Suddenly the celestial being's vague appearance began coalescing into distinguishable features, and the demon growled as the pieces and fragments came together.
"Asmodeus!" the angel gasped in surprise, recognizing the demon at once. With his short and wavy chestnut hair, grey eyes, and noticeable height, the angel rather stood out from the humans in this area. He'd probably been using his powers to muddle the perception of anyone who looked at him. No wonder the Marquis had paid him no mind at first.
"Raguel," the archdemon hissed, smoldering eyes narrowed. Thrones Raguel, one of the Seven Archangels of the Lord. This was bad.
For a moment the two beings remained frozen in shock, but only for a moment. Ropes of shadow lashed out from the street's murky, darkened corners and entwined themselves about Raguel's limbs, almost knocking him to the dusty ground. Two wings of pure white spread out from under the archangel's black cloak though, and Raguel took to the air. He had little room in the small street, but he hovered with the practiced ease of one who had been flying since before the beginning of Time. A gleaming, flaming broadsword materialized in the angel's hands, and with two swift strokes, he hacked the shadows away.
Realizing that this was not a fight he could win while in a human form, Asmodeus drew more shadows out from the darkness and wrapped them around himself like a shroud. Melting into their midst, the archdemon hugged the wall, slinking away to make an escape back into the noise and crowds of the market.
Unlike Asmodeus though, Raguel was not limited by the guise of a human body and so the angel's full aura was able to flare to life, and the shadows dispersed or burst apart with audible little shrieks. Left alone and exposed, Asmodeus shrank back against the dirty wall; the blazing light of a fully manifested and high-ranking angel scorched the archdemon. Wings folding, Raguel dove with sword raised, and Asmodeus dodged blindly, his eyes closed against the searing Light.
The angel missed his mark but not entirely, and the demon screamed as the holy sword stabbed through his shoulder and into the sandy brick wall behind him. Divine energy spread from the sword right into Asmodeus's skin, and the pain was unbearable. The ground was yanked out from under him, and he felt like he was falling, maybe even Falling. Such agony, and logic fled in that second, all thoughts boiled down to get away. With a furious and desperate struggle, heedless of causing further injury, the Marquis jerked away from the blade, cloth and flesh tearing as the demon pulled himself free.
Unsheathing his claws, he swung his arm in a wide arc, aiming for where he thought Raguel's face would be. The Marquis's efforts were rewarded by a pained yelp, and the brightness surrounding the archangel dimmed briefly. Taking his chance, Asmodeus sped off like a shot. He tried to call the shadows to come and shield him, but they didn't respond.
Running into the bustling market, the demon zigzagged through the motley camouflage of humanity before diving and hiding under an ox cart. He was dusty and hurt and humiliated yet safe, safe, but not really safe. Raguel wouldn't dare enter the crowded marketplace with halo shining and wings outstretched, but he wouldn't quit the chase either. No, Asmodeus couldn't stay here! Panic kept his pulse skittering at a frantic pace, his heart pounding in his ribcage. He had to move, had to go somewhere. He would leave the city. It would take Raguel a little while to determine whether or not Asmodeus had left Bethlehem, and even if the demon just holed up nearby, that might give him enough time to recover.
Resolved, Asmodeus tried to make a run for the open city gates, but twice his nerve failed him. On the third attempt, he finally got his legs under him and bolted for the gate. Even in this body, he could still move fast, and all anyone saw—if they even did see him—was a black blur, gone in a blink. Asmodeus could easily outstrip any mortal, but he couldn't outrun the pain. The demon's shoulder burned, and Asmodeus felt his pace slackening already, not even half a mile from the city.
Tripping and stumbling, Asmodeus staggered down a small grassy hill and half-sat half-fell beside the road that led into Bethlehem. His arm ached as his lungs gulped ragged breaths. He almost blacked out, and it was then that he felt the angelic presence, very near and coming closer. So Raguel hadn't lingered in the city after all... Asmodeus wanted to stand and fight, anything but lie here pathetically; however, he couldn't seem to rouse himself to the task. Defeated, he lay where he was, the ground cool against his cheek and the footsteps coming closer. They stopped right in front of his covered face, and through the double vision, Asmodeus made out worn beige boots. Not Raguel. Another angel then?
"Sir?" the stranger called nervously. "Are you alright?"
With an unpleasant amount of effort, the demon turned his head to glance at his newest opponent. Garnet eyes widened, and Asmodeus stared up in shock before quickly looking away again. On the road in front of the demon was the archangel Raphael. Unlike Raguel, this holy being was in human form; he held a walking stick in one hand and was wearing a dusty traveling cloak over his drab mortal clothes. Two archangels in one town? So the rumors were true after all, something important was definitely going on...
For the moment, sincere worry clouded Raphael's green eyes. He stopped short though when he reached down to touch Asmodeus and shivered as if he were suddenly chilled. Asmodeus cursed inwardly, realizing the healer still sensed his muted powers. The demon clutched his cloak tightly and covered more of his face, hoping that Raphael would not figure out who he had stumbled across.
Asmodeus cringed involuntarily as Raphael's power ghosted over him, reading his aura, but the angel did not seem to realize exactly who he was looking at. He must have sensed something though because in the next second, Raphael drew back and gripped his walking stick like a staff. "Demon!" he accused. "What are you doing here?"
Damn angel, Asmodeus swore silently. Thinking fast, he held his hands out pleadingly, pretending to cower in utter terror which was a great deal easier than it should have been. "Oh, please, Great Angel, do not harm me! I am but a lowly emissary!" he lied, realizing that Raphael still did not recognize him.
Raphael narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting Asmodeus even though he had no idea who the demon was. "Whose emissary?" he asked, calm but forceful, his tone brooking no argument. "Tell me at once. And no lies."
"As-smodeus, your Grace," the demon answered, adding the stammer for effect. He was quite pleased with how convincing he sounded; hurt as he was, he certainly looked unthreatening. If he could just get away from these angels and find some place dark and quiet to tend to his injury, Asmodeus was certain he'd be alright. At least Raphael could be reasoned with...
Raphael sucked in a breath of air. "I should've known…" he muttered. "What business does…does he have here?"
If he hadn't been in such pain, Asmodeus would have been delighted to see that Raphael couldn't even bear to speak his name. "To investigate the presence of the Archangel Raguel in a place of his continued interest. You've met my Master, haven't you?" he asked slyly, unable to resist a little taunting, a little more gauging of the angel's emotions. "Asmodeus?" he added coyly as if Raphael hadn't already known who he was referring to.
"Unfortunately." The healer's voice was serene yet displeased and not nearly as ruffled as Asmodeus had hoped it would be. "I should just let Raguel deal with you…"
Realizing that perhaps he'd gone too far, the demon hastily backtracked a bit. "Oh, please," he begged, clutching Raphael's robes in a most piteous fashion. A lick of genuine fear edged into the demon's voice, and his sympathy show was almost not an act now. "Please do not reveal me to him! Not again!"
"Again?" the healer echoed, surprised etched on his fair features. Then he caught sight of the gash in Asmodeus's arm which was visible now that the demon's arms weren't covered with the cloak. Any misgivings immediately fled from the angel's face. "You're hurt!" His voice radiated genuine concern now.
Asmodeus tensed slightly when Raphael bent towards him, reaching for his wounded arm. Convincing Raphael to release him was one thing, but letting the angel mend him was entirely another. What if he found out who Asmodeus truly was? It would be a catastrophe!
"No! Don't touch me!" He edged away from the archangel, his scarf almost coming off. "Leave me be!" His voice was nearly a frantic hiss. "I shall heal on my own."
Raphael pursued, kneeling on the ground beside Asmodeus and taking hold of his arm. "Don't be foolish. That wound may have been dealt by Raguel, but it will take only a moment for me to repair the damage."
Asmodeus shuddered as Raphael's gloved hands held him, and he felt the angel's aura even more strongly now that they were touching. Though he would never ever, even under torture, admit it later, the archdemon had begun to feel genuinely terrified. "Really, don't. Please. It's fine."
"What are you saying? It's not fine at all! The cut is entirely infected with holiness; it needs immediate attention." Raphael's cloak slipped from his shoulders and fell to the ground as he tried to hold Asmodeus still, but the demon kept struggling. The angel held on, gentle yet unrelenting, and waited for Asmodeus to exhaust himself. "Please allow me to help. I promise I shall not hurt you."
Asmodeus tried to pull away again while still attempting to keep his face covered. However, the demon was unable to utter more than a half formed refusal before a strange sensation washed over him. It hurt slightly, the healing process. His flesh re-knitting itself was far from pleasant. Looking up, Asmodeus paled with fear as he watched Raphael's serene face. The angel's eyes were closed, but the demon worried—quite justifiably—that he would soon be discovered.
However, within a little over a minute the burning subsided, and Asmodeus found himself staring into Raphael's unsuspecting springtime eyes. Quickly he looked away lest his own garnet eyes reveal him.
Still not knowing who he had just helped, Raphael merely released Asmodeus's arm. "Go in peace," he told the demon with the all the sincerity natural for an angel. Standing, Raphael added, "And I advise you to actually go. Raguel does not give up easily."
Asmodeus nodded wordlessly as the disguised archangel walked off toward the town. For the first time in centuries, the demon found himself completely and utterly bewildered. Asmodeus stood, feeling fine but so confused. Why would the angel do that? What could possibly make the healer want to help an enemy? Asmodeus would not ever have let Raphael go if their positions had been reversed. There was no way he would show mercy to any angel.
That would never happen.
—End—
*glances at last couple lines* Could that be foreshadowing?! *evil grin*
