Angel of Death: Mating

Mating

"Welcome Azrael," the Creator greeted. Azrael didn't respond. He didn't need to. He'd seen death. He'd never foreseen anything, and seeing Adom and Chava's death was traumatizing.

The one he'd been trying to see was Tyrus', but he couldn't see past all the chaos and death he would soon be causing.

"It's hard, I know." The Creator disappeared to the throne room as always.

"Azrael!" Sophia called flying to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Her light brown wings sparkled a little gold in the Creator's light. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Soph," he closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her kinky curly mane. He never knew why she was the object of his obsession, but it was eating him from the inside. He missed everything about her. Her afro-like hair and her brown solemn eyes, her light brown wings and petite frame. Her lips. She'd always tease him in school only because he was the only one who'd speak out of turn and act vain and didn't get punished for it. She made him a better angel. He didn't know why she'd never left his side in all the crap he went through with other angels.

She grabbed his hand and led him to her home. The last time he was there, he was screaming at her, denying that Cassiel was his father. He felt ashamed of how he spoke to her. "I'm sorry," he said as he sat by her window.

"For what?" she asked. She didn't understand why he was apologizing. He couldn't do anything to hurt her... at least up until a year ago.

"For snapping at you the last time I was here," Azrael sighed. "And for leaving without saying goodbye."

Sophia smiled and touched his face. He'd grown a little bit. His face seemed less feminine and had an aged quality. Something only the archangels seemed to possess despite the fact that angels didn't age past coming of age.

"I accept your apology," she replied. "You're still beautiful."

He placed his hand over hers and pulled her closer. They were less than inch from each other's faces, ready to give into desire...

Azrael stood and led her towards the private room in the back. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. His tongue delved into her mouth, caressing hers with a heated passion. He didn't want to let her go, but it was in all their best interest. He wasn't

the same as the other archangels, therefore different rules applied to him. Cassiel was only allowed to mate with Ari'el to create him... Me.

"I want to kiss you forever," he whispered into her ear before placing a kiss on her earlobe. She shuddered in his arms and she gripped herself to him, fingering some of his dark glossy feathers.

"What's stopping you?" Her eyes stared into his. He couldn't look away.

"I have a duty to fulfill." His answer didn't loosen her glare. "I am an archangel."

She let him go but still held his gaze. "Cassiel and the others are in Zebul," she confessed.

"What's Zebul?" he asked. Where in heaven was that?

"The Creator, Spirit and Son made a tier of heaven where the archangels could call home and... mate." Sophia leaned against his chest. "I feel a connection to you, Azrael. I don't know why. It's scary, but I want to be with you."

"Let me talk to the Creator," Azrael finally said. "I want you to be wherever you are happy."

"Is this what you want? You are subject to a few different rules, Azrael." The Creator had dismissed even the Thrones to speak with Azrael.

"Like what?" He had already asked to move to Zebul.

"You cannot mate with Sophia just yet." Azrael's breath began to shake. He had a hard time abstaining from her, but he'd try.

"Paris and Pharrah have not been mated in a while. They deserve attention. We also have to grow the angel population back to full capacity after the War. I would like you to mate with them." The Creator's words drilled heat into his head. He'd never mated before and now he'd have to mate with two old bags... "Be extra careful with Paris. Gabriel is a jealous one."

"Yes, Father."

"You may go."

"You have to mate with two others? Before me?" Sophia looked defeated. "I want you to myself, Azrael. I need you to myself."

"I know, Soph," Azrael chided. "I tried, but somehow I have superior genetics compared to any other angel in Zion right now."

"But what about Cassiel?"

"I'm stronger. Stronger than all of them."

"So you're a tool for selective breeding?" Her face turned into a pout. She turned and headed to her private room. He followed slowly.

"I---" he looked at her on the bed. She looked small. She always seemed large and intimidating to him before his transformation, but now he realized she needed him now more than ever. "I'll care for you Sophia, but maybe it's bigger than we're thinking. What if I can't mate with you? What if it's too dangerous? I'd never want to put you in harm's way for no good reason."

"So," she said sighing. "When do we get to be together?"

"After I mate with... them," he said. He shut his eyes when he saw her wince. "I know it seems like long time, Soph. But I think we can do it."

Sophia looked at him for a minute, studying his face. He was truly sincere. He had hope.

"What about your duty?" she asked. "What about leaving Gaia. When do you have to go back?"

"Not soon," he replied. "The first death will be about 900 years from--"

"They've had their first child."

Azrael looked out into the sky. The Creator had spoken. First child, he thought. First child? He froze. Images of human children running and playing and teasing and laughing and being jealous and growing and changing and death played in his mind. He gasped. This was just the first child of many, and he saw a young one die before his eyes.

"Azrael? Can you hear me?" Sophia shook Azrael by the shoulders. His wings suddenly expanded and he fell back with her on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said helping her up. "I just-- nothing."

Sophia stared at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stood up and fixed his clothing. "I'm going to speak with Mihalo now." He kissed her forehead and exited.

"Mihalo," Azrael called out as he reached a pearly gate. No one answered. How do I get to Zebul?

Just then a flash of white wings almost blinded him.

"Whoa!"

"Sorry, Ray," Mihalo greeted. "Nice to see you again. How did you like Gaia?"

Azrael shrugged his tan shoulders and smiled. "It wasn't amazing," he responded coolly.

"I thought so," Mihalo said. "You must have thought it all a waste."

"No, but I was hoping for the best." Azrael sighed. "Where's Zebul?"

Mihalo smiled. "You don't know where Zebul is? Cassiel was supposed to take you there, but maybe you were caught up kicking the humans out of the garden."

Azrael scratched his head. "He still doesn't like me, does he?"

"He thinks you're more annoying now that you're an archangel," Mihalo said grinning. "But you know, I can take you there now if you want."

"Sure," Azrael replied.

Mihalo stood in front of Azrael and bowed his head. Azrael followed fashion and once he lifted his head, they were in a large grassy field, the grass reaching their calves.

"Wow," Azrael exclaimed. "It's amazing."

"Better than Gaia, right?" Mihalo walked off in one direction. "Let's go meet with Ari'el."

Azrael froze. "I don't know."

"Huh?" Mihalo swung around and faced Azrael. "What do you mean 'I don't know'? It wasn't up for discussion."

Azrael backed up a couple steps. "Sorry. Okay, let's go."

Mihalo laughed and led the way.

The castle was majestic. Obviously, it was made for archangels. Mihalo led Azrael down the main hallway, towards the leisure hall. "I guess you can say Ari'el is the Queen Virtue over here," Mihalo explained. "She helps make things nice and cozy; when she's not mad at Cassiel."

Azrael smiled. They entered the leisure hall and Ari'el was sitting on a bench filled with colourful cushions.

"Hello, Mihalo and Azrael. What brings you here?" She smiled a toothache sweet smile.

"I was thinking of moving here," Azrael said quietly.

"Really? Is there a reason?" Ari'el patted the space next to her and Azrael sat down. "It's Sophia, isn't it?"

"Actually, yes," Azrael responded swiftly. "I want her to be here with me."

"She talked about you the whole time you were away," Ari'el said. "She was so worried. I kind of thought you'd have that affect on a virtue."

"Umm, thank you?" he began to blush. "I actually need to speak to you... In private." He looked over at Mihalo who just smiled and exited.

"No one's here," she said. "Speak."

"Not here. Can we go to one of the fields?" She looked at him weird and eventually agreed. As they walked out to the nearest field, Ari'el watched Azrael. He looked very much like Cassiel, but with red hair and freckles. His lips were a bit fuller than Cassiel's and he seemed even taller than Cassiel now that he came back from Gaia.

"What would you like to know?" she asked as she turned and faced.

He looked into the sky and licked his lips. "I have a duty that's not necessarily something I like. It's like-- being a 'birth-father' if you catch my drift."

Ari'el smiled. "Welcome a Virtue's world."

"It's not the same," he protested.

"It is," Ari'el winked. "I know this is a test though. Cassiel and I never really loved each other until just before you were born. I haven't had to mate with any other angels after him, but I know it would've been hard. Are you willing to test your love?"

"No, but I won't disobey the Creator." He realized the pain he was in probably traveled in the veins of Sophia every minute they were separated. This could ruin them. She may not hate him, but all hope would be lost. He closed his eyes. "I think I..." He abruptly stopped

his sentence and looked Ari'el in her eyes. "I can't love her."

Ari'el's face twisted in confusion. "Azrael, I don't think that's the answer. You can--"

"I can't love her. It's not reasonable for me." Azrael knew he sounded selfish, but he knew he could never have a love like Ari'el and Cassiel's. "Or her," he added. "I can't suffer anymore."

"What do you mean suffer?" Ari'el held onto one of his biceps, somewhat pinning him down. "Suffer? You'll suffer? No. Sophia will suffer and you know it. With or without you, you may ruin her. If you leave her, you will ruin her."

Azrael knew Ari'el was right, but it didn't make sense to him. The emotions that ran through his veins scarred him as he foresaw the humans' deaths. He kept seeing a girl who looked similar to Sophia and obviously like Chava. She was giving birth and she died as soon as the baby was delivered. Her eyes were the exact same as Sophia's.

"I'm not going to be the one that hurts her."

"You won't," Ari'el soothed. "You're not like that. I had a part in creating you, you know."

Azrael shook his head. He may be death personified, but he had a heart of gold.

"You may stay here awhile if you like, Azrael," Ari'el continued. "But I strongly advise you to go back to Sophia."

The moment Azrael reached back to Zion, he was called on by the Creator. "Azrael, I know you have doubt. I trust you'll make the right decisions, either way."

Azrael didn't have enough trust in himself. He could see the Sophia look-a-like in his day dreams, dying, from god-knows-what. There was a part missing from the story of her death. At one moment she was giving birth, the next she was dead, blood covering her neck, chest and legs. He was alone once when he dreamt it and he realized he was screaming.

"Death is painful. For them now, death is inevitable. You govern how, where and why they must die." The Creator's light changed, only slightly, but it was now a very light blue shade that He knew was comforting to Azrael. "I have a new weapon that represents the

gathering of souls you will be doing. A reaper. They'll use them to harvest grains. They won't find it disturbing. As long as you remain invisible, there should be no problems."

Azrael held out his right hand and the weapon appeared heavy, metallic and gleaming mirror-like. He could see the reflection of his sapphire eyes. They became cold, dark and angry after the year spent in Gaia. He hadn't said anything aloud since returning, fearing the wrong thing may be said. He wanted to explore his feelings for Sophia, disobey the

Creator and not mate with Paris and Pharrah, and even felt the need to destroy a life. Destroying a life was not his purpose. If he followed his heart's true desire, Tyrus would have been jealous.

"You may speak if you like," the Creator said. Azrael nodded, and then shook his head quickly. "Fear is not for your kind."

Azrael sighed and bit his lip. "It's not that I fear to do, I fear to say." He held the reaper close to his chest. He was fond of it already. It reminded him of what he was capable of. "I'm not going to mate with Sophia. It's not the right decision, right now. I will mate with Paris and Pharrah, but I would like to request that I personally raise the children when they become close to age."

"You know the reason for not mating with Sophia is not valid enough. Not being the right decision is not a reason to do so. It is not a reason, really." The Creator's light changed slightly red, irking Azrael's sanity. "You doubt yourself, Azrael. I know. I created your

mind, designed your frame and know what will happen to you years from now. Your mind cannot handle the information, that is why I do not tell you."

Azrael nodded. "I will not change my statement, if that's acceptable."

"It is acceptable that you're being true to yourself. But are you true to Sophia as well?" The Creator knew the answer. He knew the outcome. The amount of choice that Azrael had compared to the other angels was immense. Azrael never realized it, but how could he? He had the choice of humans, years before humans had existed. As an angel, Azrael never fit in.

"You should be truthful to her as well."

"Should?" Azrael felt queasy. He'd never seen other angels be subject to a 'should' choice by the Creator. "I-- I don't know how to answer that."

"I know." The Creator again disappeared.

Azrael headed to his apartment in the north side of the city, avoiding passing through the West side of Zion, the city of Jah. That was where Sophia lived. He wished he had the courage to face her, but he felt there too many choices to handle. It was scary. Not many angels had the right to choose much other than when and where something occurred.

"What's the answer?"

Azrael stopped in his tracks. He knew he should've flown. It was risk... A risk he chose to take.

"No answer," he said turning around. "I'm sorry Sophia. I cannot mate with you. It isn't reasonable."

"Reasonable?" Sophia responded dumbly. He'd used that word to describe Tyrus' rebellion before: it wasn't reasonable for Tyrus to continue to live. Sophia felt struck down. "Does that mean I'm not worth it?" She felt like glass at the moment: fragile.

"Not like that," Azrael countered. "It's more a matter of safety... For me."

"Safety from what?" She was ready to cry. He rejected her for his own selfish reasons? "What could I do to you that would cause you harm? Azrael, you're being crass and selfish!"

"If I explained it to you," he began, "you'd realize that what I need for me is what is best for you. I don't make my decisions off of want-based fantasies. I refuse to mate with you because of precautionary measures. I'm-- I'm sorry for leading you on."

Sophia was now standing less than a foot away from Azrael. The anger in her eyes made her brown eyes dark as chestnuts. Azrael's mouth twitched and his eyebrows scrunched in. "You'll realize my intentions later on."

She slapped him. Hard. "Fuck your intentions, Azrael. You wanted this to work. You wanted this as much as I did. I could see it in your eyes." A tear fell from her eye. Tears were rare in Zion and Azrael felt as if he'd be blamed for a crime of breaking hearts. "You betrayed me."

Azrael's jaw tightened. Betrayal? There was no such betrayal. He saved her life. He didn't want her dead. Death was ugly.

He turned and continued walking. He hadn't been to his apartment yet. The Creator made him a place to stay when he returned from Gaia. He flew to the window, refusing to walk up the stairs. It was high and the view was amazing. He could see the whole of Zion, and the cities it housed.

He ran his fingers over the sheets on the bed. Paris was supposedly supposed to meet him there any minute now. She would soon be lying there, naked, willing. Lust filled Azrael's pores. He'd never thought of breeding as beautiful. He thought it a necessary evil to procreate in the angel kingdom.

He pulled off his shirt. It was a thin, armour like substance. It felt like silk to the touch but could not be pierced. He marvelled at it. It was thin, kind of helpless, yet, it would not die. Azrael felt huge and ready to be broken if he couldn't handle his fate.

"You know, it's kind of hard coming in when you live at the top floor," Paris said walking in. She wasn't breathless; she had angelic strength. "It took forever to get up here."

She was dressed in a loose dress of sandy brown. Her blonde locks fell aimlessly around her wings of chocolate brown. She was a tanned color, only a little paler than Azrael was now. Her eyes were chocolate brown as well, giving her face only that much more depth in character.

"You should have flown." Azrael smirked a little and sat on his bed. "What happens now?" He was utterly clueless. He'd watch Adom and Chava learn to procreate before they'd sinned and left the garden. He wondered if the same laws of physic applied to him.

"Well, the pants come off," she said gesturing to his leggings. They were just as amorous as the shirt, so it wasn't ideal. "And then I get undressed. I will teach you. It's not hard."

He felt it a bit too procedure-like and hesitated pulling his pants down. Paris noticed the hesitation and approached him seductively. Azrael didn't realize that she was only easing the process, but he almost gave up pulling his pants down to stare at her swaying hips.

"I gave you an order," she whispered against his neck. Goosebumps appeared where her breath was on his neck.

"Yes," he responded. He hooked his fingers into his pants and pulled them down revealing his toned naked body.

She pushed him onto the bed and proceeded to undress herself. She undid the halter straps tied around her neck and let them fall. He watched as her breasts were set free from their material prison. They were firm, round and set with pink gem-like nipples that protruded from her body unlike the young Chava's. Again, he wanted to place his lips on them as if he were a baby again, needing the comfort of his mother. He reached out and grabbed them. They were softer than they looked. Paris' eyes got wide and frightened. Azrael didn't understand. It felt right.

"What are you doing?" she asked hesitantly.

He retracted his hands like a child and looked up at her innocently. "I thought--"

"Let's try this again," she said fully pulling off her dress revealing her love apex. He'd seen breasts and vaginas before. Some angels even refused to wear clothing. This made him think of going naked as crude and leaving nothing to the imagination.

She straddled his legs and then looked down confused. "You're not erect."

He looked more confused, although the blood seemed to be rushing to the right place. "What?"

"Your penis. It needs to be erect." She looked down and pointed at it.

He took it in his hand and tried to hold it up straight, but he wasn't aroused enough. He wrapped his fingers around it and began to massage it up and down. He didn't understand, but it felt good.

"What are you doing?" Paris asked again. "This isn't right." She turned and was ready to pick up her dress and leave when Azrael's black wing blocked the door.