Chapter Twenty Four: Azazel

With no one left to turn to, I turned inward. I didn't want to go to the Garden. I didn't know what to do. I wondered if I should feel bad for what I went back in time and did. I wondered if he found out, or already had. I was starting to wonder if all these Void rips were a result in my experimenting with time. Maybe one angel wasn't meant to have this much power.

It was when I consumed Azrael that I gained the majority of my time powers. He was named by the Lord as the angel of death, so of course I targeted him among all fallen brothers to consume. I don't even remember when it was we came together. It was as if we were always one. Admittedly, he didn't go down very well. Time has been very "fucked" since we merged into a single consciousness.

I could feel him pretty much all the time. Everywhere I go, every interaction and thought. Azrael was everywhere and tainted everything I touched. I wondered if he had something to do with the extra entropy inside of everything, including the Veil itself. Ever since I consumed him I seemed to break anything I interacted with. Maybe he was the source of the tears I was causing.

When I reached inside myself to interact with my brother, Azrael's consciousness, I always felt the sense of doom and importance. He was like the more mature side of myself. He was me if I "grew up." I don't like him. I don't like that side of myself. I always felt scolded and judged. Azrael never knew how to have fun. That was why it was hard to consume him. We barely merged successfully since we were so diametrically opposite in personality. Still, we came together to composite into one entity.

But we are also separate beings still. I guess what I am saying is he is a little more separate than the other personalities I've merged with. It is difficult to explain since this is an aspect we angels have that mortals do not. Sure, some humans have attachments, their ancestors, or maybe even other entities hanging around them. This is different. Fleshless immortal beings can coalesce into a singular being and have those separate personalities go dormant. Dormant, until they are called upon specifically.

So, I called upon Azrael, the other angel of death, to talk to. Since he was inside of me, his answer was swift and loud. He usually didn't have a lot to say. I couldn't consume his consciousness unless he was in full and complete agreement to do so. Thus, we didn't have a contentious relationship. But, he was just so dry that I rarely interacted with him on purpose. It was like visiting an ancient relative for him only to bore you with old war stories while serving stale crackers and watered down lemonade.

Deep in the depths of my vast personality I dove. I opened a portal to locate him and knock on his door. Azrael set up a small cottage somewhere in the corner of my consciousness. The building style he conjured to greet me in was a sort of mish-mash of rural Filipino and British architecture. It was a cottage but raised off the ground on stilts. Several silver rivers lazily oozed beside the tiny home, creating the atmosphere of a cold marsh. The cottage was standing in an open field with dozens of boulders and rocks speckling the ground. Azrael's sky was flat and gray with an thin mist in the air. It wasn't exactly a welcoming setting.

However, there was smoke rising from the chimney. I didn't get the feeling that I was unwelcome, either. Even though the cottage was quaint and cozy, Azrael himself had the impression of being impossibly tall. He bowed lightly in greeting as he opened the door, but didn't say anything verbally. He had the face of a nondescript librarian and wore nothing but a black robe.

Inside the cabin wasn't much better. The room only had a table and chair, a fireplace, and a rocking chair. As I let myself in, he sat down in the rocking chair and peered at me. His eyes were a pale gray, nearly white in color. I sat down at the small wooden table uncomfortably. The flames in the fireplace danced and flickered, but emitted no heat. I always felt that all of my brothers either expressed themselves too much or too sparsely and never somewhere in the middle. Where brothers like Adramelech had solid gold castles decorated in jeweled encrusted, flaming, ejaculating genitals, others like Meresin and Azrael had burlap cloth robes and dirt floor cabins. No one could do anything in moderation.

"What are you seeking, brother?" he asked politely and formally. His voice sounded like the wind echoing in an old, abandoned church.

"Ugh," I groaned, feeling like a child in the principal's office. I wrung my hands and tapped my feet. I wasn't really nervous. I was just feeling anxious. For no reason. "What would you do, were you in my position?"

I could feel and see him stare right through me. I knew that he knew what I was talking about. He was able to see and experience almost everything I had been through lately. Yet, his gaze still crawled all over me. It felt like a wave of cold insects with a million tiny legs.

"I wouldn't be where you are. I would have made different choices," said Azrael blankly.

"Well of course. But, what do you mean?" I asked, agitated.

"I would not have dismissed Raum," Azrael replied stiffly.

"Wait... what?" I blurted, dismayed. He said nothing of my sleeping with Meresin's pet project, Wendy. He didn't even mention all the Void rips happening all over the place. The weird thing with Sachiel becoming a fallen angel!! Was he paying attention at all?? What was he even talking about??

"What do you mean?? What about Raum? Sandalphon already had me looking into it. He's being good, so what? I just don't care, you know? So what," I said again as I slouched into the uncomfortable chair. I glanced over to Azrael whose face reminded me of a blind barn owl. His face was pale, oval, and framed by straight brown hair. Hair color was like a banner or a flag. He wasn't blonde, like the 'good-guys,' or redheaded like the 'fallen' ones. He was somewhere in the middle, like Raziel and a small handful of others. Even though we were merged, I still had a trouble getting a read on him.

"It's not that," said Azrael. "It's that Raum has found a way to live. Do you know why I agreed to merge consciousness with you?"

"Uh, well, no, I didn't ask," I answered uneasily. "Frankly I didn't get it. You didn't put up a fight at all and you're one of the most powerful fallen angels... if I do say so myself. I mean, I'm glad you didn't fight me much. Our merging didn't go easily. It was so hard to consume you, because... you're so vast and we're so different in personalities." Also, I didn't want to know. He still gave me the creeps even though he was now a part of me.

Azrael tilted his head and gave a small, humorless chuckle. He stood up from his rocking chair and approached his fireplace. His laugh sent shivers up and down my forearms. When he stood, his head nearly swept against the ceiling. It looked strangely distorted, as if he were ten feet tall in a five foot building. It was as if he bent the entire cabin to adjust to his height instead of the other way around. For a moment, everything looked curved.

I watched as my brother, Azrael, the "original" angel of death, thoughtfully stare into the fireplace. A long black scythe hung over the mantle. I wasn't sure if it was there since when I stepped into the cabin, or if the scythe just appeared there, suddenly.

I realized that his black robe could have also been feathers. In the adjusting, flickering light, it appeared as if his robe was made up of two black wings wrapped around him. I didn't say anything for a moment as I allowed him to collect his thoughts.

"I agreed to it because I knew it is close for our time to die. As the angel of death, I also possess the knowledge of our end time, Azazel. Since I was born of you, broken off you, so too I knew that I would return. Most of us will return, but not all..." he said quietly. He looked at me again. I shifted in my seat. I had no idea what he was talking about. But, I was so uncomfortable that I did not want him to elaborate. He continued to talk anyway.

"Your name is Azazel. Your name is a spell. It is instructions. A-- the alpha and beginnings. Z, the Omega and endings. It is repeated. Azaz. Lastly, El, one of the many names of the Creator God. The instructions for your purpose are right there in your name, Azazel. You are the start of us as the last of us. I knew I was going to eventually return to you just as I was made from you. So, now is the correct time for me to tell you that it is the endings of endings. Our ending."

"Our ending, like, we are going to die?" I asked. If I held the ability to sweat I felt like I would be sweating. "We can't die so I don't know what you're saying. We are totally immortal. Time doesn't mean anything to us, especially to you and me. You're absolutely spouting off some crazy talk. Like some prophesies or some shit. I know what my name means... so I don't get what you're saying."

"Ah, but you do know. You know because I know-- and once again we are one. As close as to being one entity again as the Creator allows. It is why you avoid me. But, I do not feel offended, dear brother. You are merely carrying out your purpose. Being too aware of your mortality leads you to foolish decisions. We are witnessing the collapse of all things, including the angels-- both high and low."

"I don't follow you," I said, shutting down the conversation.

"Unless we follow the path of Raum, we will succumb to the inevitable. The entropy drag that follows us will also consume us all."

"The entropy drag? Yeah, I'll say! Ever since I consumed your consciousness, time has been all messed up. I guess you didn't 'go-down-very-well,' sort to speak. Giving me indigestion! I feel like ever since I consumed your ass, those big rips in reality have begun to appear. Those big Void-holes. I almost got eaten by one!"

"It was very likely an unintended consequence, yes. The coalescing of our brother's consciousnesses into a single being would most certainly cause a reverberation felt throughout all of reality, space, and time. Don't you ever consider the bigger ramifications of your actions?"

"My separation from the Creator was what literally caused all bad things to happen. There is no being in all of existence who is more acutely aware of the accountability they have to everything wrong in the universe. It's my job to be blamed for everything. Scapegoated. I was the reason that word was invented!! I guess if we are ending it all..." I trailed off, still not really absorbing his point. "well, good! I'm glad! Let's do this. Let's end it all, all of creation! I just guess I never realized that we were headed that way all along. I thought the Creator would come in and fix it somehow. I'm so sick of getting blamed, though. Death? I guess I don't even know what it means, what death means. What it means for us... I mean for me," I said, staring despondently at the veins his crappy wooden table. "The big question is, who is my psychopomp? Who is escorting me to the other side if we're dying? Is it you? Is it God? Do I get to escort Michael the archangel into death? Please, it would be so satisfying. I'd love to kill him. I can't tell you how much I hate that guy."

"I don't think you're listening," said Azrael.

I hate being told that. I was listening. I heard him. He said we were dying and we better get used to it. Except, he didn't sound angry. He sounded sad, so I let him continue.

"Raum. There is a way to avoid this, Azazel. We can still live, because Raum lives. He paved the way somehow, but you dismissed him entirely."

"Fine, I'll see him. We will see him," I said, standing up from the chair. Azrael squinted at me curiously and I found his expression inscrutable. I felt manipulated, and I hate being manipulated. I knew I was doing exactly what he wanted me to do, somehow, and still I missed it. "What do you want me to ask him, what are we even looking for?" I asked directly.

"I am the angel of death, not of life, Azazel. I do not know how Raum lives, I just know he avoids the fate, somehow. He lives--when the rest of us--all of us, including the angels that have not fallen and reside in Heaven above... join together in the realms of death. We are all going to die, Azazel, including you. Including me. But Raum isn't there and I simply know this to be true as I know my breath. To see if it is possible to avoid this fate I would think you need to spend some time with him."

"Ugh, I hope it isn't because he's turned 'good,'" I said as I peeled myself from my chair and stood. "Ol' Phones was interested in him because of that. Ugh. Okay, here I go. Going to visit brother Raum once known as Haborym. Opening a portal," I said, narrating my actions as I reluctantly took them. I could feel Azrael watch me as I took my steps towards the door. He stared as I set up a channel, a connection to my brother. It was easy to locate him. He was on Earth and not on the astral plane. He was open to communicating with me, I could feel his acceptance of my presence. Why is it the brothers I least want to talk to are open to me? It is always the driest, least fun of my siblings. I always felt the more "fun" fallen angels had blocked me long ago. Maybe it was because as others said—they severed communication because they were most afraid of being re-absorbed.

Was it so bad rejoining? Sure, it was what my ego wanted-- to be the biggest and the baddest of the angels. But, I already was. I had nothing left to prove. I glanced back at Azrael as I opened the door to his cabin to leave. Outside was a portal, a vortex leading me to wherever Raum was on Earth. Azrael, the angel of death, wasn't afraid. He was welcoming oblivion with open arms. I saw him as he stood and vaguely looked like the grim reaper-- tall, slender, flowing robes and a black scythe. He cut the perfect silhouette. As I looked back and tumbled into the portal it almost looked as if he took the hourglass from his mantle and turned it.

I wasn't sure what that meant but I doubted we had a whole lot of time left. The angel of death was himself ready to die.