Patience was an endless test to endure self-restraint from all forms of temptation or desire; to deny one's desire to take action, to rebel against orders, or to ask questions.
If one was told to wait, they waited. If told the reason was irrelevant, then they were obligated to accept that as truth. If told to disengage and remain ignorant to the cataclysmic war and it's bountiful repercussions, than one should do as one was told and relocate far away from the galaxies that might cause accidental disobedience. To maintain solitude from all other Seraph, especially the other Virtues, until the time came that they were called upon.
And, well. That was... it was fine. Azrael was the literal epitome of patience, and it was not like he was left wanting for things to do. The Universe was vast beyond comprehension, full of an endless supply of marvels to experience and species (that were unrelated to the war) to watch and learn about.
It was just... why was a war even necessary? Moreso as it began suddenly and without any evidence of causation? The facts given did not add up. At all. So yes, he was patient. Yes, he could follow orders like he was expected to. But, after a thousand years or so of just waiting in silence and growing disillusion... Azrael found himself just a bit more curious than he was blissfully obedient.
"You should not be here."
"I suppose not, no." Azrael paused, head tilting to the side. "I am, though."
Raziel squinted, considering the situation; they should not be entertaining this, they should be scolding their sibling then retreating if the other refuses to do so. "I was under the impression you were patience, Brother. This act is quite unbecoming of you..." they hesitated, shifting from one foot to another. "Unless you have received word?"
"I have not, no," Azrael admitted. "I have instead found myself with questions."
They clicked their tongue, making a point of appearing as disappointed as possible. "I am loyal to my vow of chastity, I will not waver in the face of temptation. You know this."
"I suppose that answers a question, though it is not one I seek."
Raziel let out a metallic crinkle of a noise, born of confusion, at the utterly disappointed look they were given before Azrael disappeared in a wisp of dust. This encounter made them uneasy but they were loyal. Raziel would not waver.
"Hello, Jere—"
"LEAVE!"
"I have—"
"I WILL NOT ENTERTAIN YOU!"
"I thought you were born of charity. This is not very charitable of—"
"How dare— LEAVE BEFORE I MAKE YOU!"
The next two attempts did not fare much better.
He could probably needle Zadkiel down, but exploiting her duty of kindness would undoubtedly leave him feeling quite guilty. Azrael did seek answers to his questions, but there was a limit to what he would do to obtain them.
(Probably.)
That left him with one last option, Samael. While she was dedicated to diligence, she was also the most likely to question why abstaining from involvement was the correct course. She was also the most likely to try and take his life for bothering her, though, but desperate times wont for desperate measures.
"Do you need something?"
"Hello, Samael. It is nice to see you again."
"Sure," she grunted, giving him a suspicious glare. "Pleasure as always, wonderful weather this galaxy is having. What do you want?"
"I have found myself with an abundance of questions with a distinct lack of answers."
"And?"
Azrael hummed, the chiming sound seeming to echo around them, as he glanced around the rather unremarkable planet his sister was presently inhabiting; no living species appeared to dwell here, anywhere in the galaxy really, but that was not necessary a surprise. Samael was not one for 'wasting time' so there was a reason she was here, even if he did not know why.
"I wondered if you might have some for me."
"Is that so," she asked, eyebrows raised and voice full of disinterest. "Why might you think I have answers to share?"
"You dislike being idle. There is a probability you may know more than I do."
"I know many things," Samael agreed, because she did. Things she should know and a great number of things she should not know. The fact her brother was here at all was suspicious enough, made greater due to him looking for information on some questions. Questions he could, seemingly, not easily find answers for. "What are you trying to accomplish, Brother?"
Much to her surprise, Azrael appeared to be lost... if not upset. That was rather unlike him, or rather the him she remembered. "I do not understand..." he muttered, perhaps to her or perhaps equally to himself.
"You misunderstand what? My question?"
"No, I am not perplexed by you but rather... why."
"Why?"
Azrael offered a short nod and a sharp, almost knowing, look. "Why is this happening, truly? Prior to the beginning, I cannot recall ever hearing of the Aba being a hostile species. Solitary yes, but more keen on isolationism than conquest. I also have not found logic in our—" he waved a hand between the two of them, "—orders to isolate ourselves until told otherwise. If the Aba are such a dire threat to the Seraph existence, should we not be fighting as well? Are we not the strongest?"
"That is—of course we are! Second only to the Original, but—perhaps..." Samael trailed off, face pinched in annoyance. She did not appreciate being scattered of mind, or at a loss for what to say. It was not like this pathway of thinking was unknown to her, she herself had reflected on it a many time but it just..."Asking these questions is not our place, Brother."
"I am aware... and yet."
"And yet," she echoed after a pause, hollow sounding, bordering on defeated, yet in full agreement all the same. Samael did not enjoy the feeling of having idle time, and wandering the universe without any true purpose sans isolation did not leave her feeling accomplished.
(There was also the years and years—countless decades by now—of seeking fulfillment via dedicating her time to aiding less developed species to help enrich their lives. She had felt such accomplishment, only to later find most those planets had been caught in the crossfire of war and utterly destroyed.
She had spent even more years, each and every time, mourning the loss of those species as well her hard work, that had ultimately been for nothing. That feeling of futility was not one she had entirely moved past.)
The two stood in a morose silence; watching the red star churn and rage in the distance, watching the dust from the planet surface drift around them.
"I do not have answers for this," Samael admitted, voice quiet and thoughtful. "If I did, I would be willing share them with you."
"I understand." And he did. Azrael knew this sister was not one for wasting time, and that included the effort of lying. "Should I somehow aquire truth, would you like me to share this knowledge with you?"
She did not answer immediately, considering the implications of knowing the truth; both how it might effect her mindset, but how it might potentially endanger her. There was not an insignificant chance that retaliation might be aimed at them.
"I believe, yes. I would not be opposed."
"Very well. Until then, take care, Samael."
Answers, knowledge, and the devastating truth came via a chance encounter with one very belligerent Aba called
Leviathan.