Information
sacraments
Legacy Name: sacraments
The
Common IrionOwner:
gallowsAge: 8 years, 9 months, 1 week
Born: August 1st, 2015
Adopted: 8 years, 9 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: August 1st, 2015
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Saint Michael
god's judgement, leader of the heavenly army
+ archangel, patron saint of soldiers
+ had his left eye destroyed by Hesper during the war
+ gun-wielding, cigar smoker
+ built like a soldier, scarred like a soldier
+ collateral damage
He tore the constellations from the sky, star by treacherous star, and with his sword eviscerated the heavens.
Saint Michael, protector of man, bled the wicked out of paradise.
On his scales was made their judgment and by his will so too was their punishment dealt. In the name of God he cut down kin, siring martyrs from the dead, and wore upon his breast a conviction fit like armor. His foes were devils disguised as light, brothers and sisters lost upon their path, who for their folly earned a lover's brutality. For them, his mercy was swift. They were blinded by deception, these wayward followers, gorged on sibilant promise and whispered doubts. He freed them, purging sin, and cast their remains onto the shores of atonement.
For others, for the instigators and leaders, his fury was unrestrained. They who had caused such grief with their trickery, with their pride and false worship, had also forced his hand. He dealt revenge for murdered trust, for miseries his own because of it, and wondered that he had ever been so blind as to love the corrupt.
Angel by angel, he brought the rebellion to its knees
Only later, after the gates of heaven were again secure, and Lucifer rent to nothing more than stardust, would the conqueror take his triumph for justice.
When the war had turned from a pulse of rage to a hollow throb, Michael would still remember the give of his blade through wings. He would continue to taste iron in each swallow and wake to phantom cries beneath the smell of smoke. Slowly, the defender would watch order return, see the righteous prevail, and never receive the answers to his growing disquiet.
Why this?
Why him?
When the empty socket of his eye would ache, when his dreams were filled with nothing but Beelzebub's screams as his divinity was torn from his back, the archangel would ask the Lord for solace. He would pray to God for an explanation, for understanding, and in his hour of need finally learn a truth undeniable.
Through the heart of temptation Michael had thrust his blade, felling evil, and in the face of his enemy seen himself. He would pretend, with hands stained red, that to do so had been his duty, his right, and that the sanctity of heaven had been worth any price. In faith he would seek validation, in grace a reprieve.
But Michael, weigher of souls, would one day put himself upon the scale of judgment. Only then, when he found himself with nothing left to measure, would he begin to understand the terrible cost of victory.
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iv
footnote: see ordained, idolatry, absolve, ascetic