Son of the Morning

Oh morning star! How far have you fallen! – Isaiah 14:12

Lucifer marched in from the east. Following the rise of the morning star, he trailed his long cloak along the sky. The cloak was purple, a kingly color fitting for the King of Hell, and embroidered with intricate pictures of the hellfires and his palace below. On his shining bronze armor, his best demon craftsmen had engraved scenes from the highlights of the rebellion in Heaven. He carried himself with pride.

Lucifer's destination: the courts of Heaven, where he was always welcome, if unwanted. The court where he made his accusations every day.

He stood before the gates that soared up into the ether. He snapped his fingers and they opened. He was still an angel, technically speaking. He could come and go as he pleased.

Lucifer liked to appear in the form of an angel of light. Not that he really was one, of course—since the Fall, his true form had scaly, scarred black wings and was terribly burned. But he was a master of disguise. His face glowed with light, and he held his blackened wings as proudly as the feathered ones they'd once been, and wore impressive armor and robes and cast the glow of the morning star around him wherever he went. The only obvious sign marking him as infernal: the proud, curved black horns that sprung from his forehead, which he kept even when he changed his appearance to something more palatable, as a sort of crown. He was an impressive sight, even to other angels, and especially in his own eyes.

I am the Rival, he said to himself. I am the one who speaks in whispers.

Even his slightest whisper could send those wretched animals the Almighty so incomprehensibly favored on a course straight into the arms of Hell. Ever since that beautiful, wretched creature, Eve, had chosen to take fruit from him, the humans were his, his, his. He wasn't sure why God kept trying with them. They were completely hopeless.

Angels drew back as he approached. They all recognized him as soon as they saw him, their former commander, the light bearer. Lucifer was satisfied when they whispered and pointed, their faces holding barely contained fear.

Through golden and jeweled cities, through emerald forests, to the beach of the blue glass ocean, he strode proudly, until he reached the very foot of God's throne. The cherubim and seraphim and Living Creatures at the foot of the throne all turned their heads and stared at him in hate and indignance. And, perhaps, curiosity, wondering what his business was.

"Lucifer?" the Almighty asked. "What brings you here?"

"If You are so all-knowing, tell me Yourself."

"To accuse and insinuate and try to fool me with half-truths, I am sure."

"To make a declaration, yes," said Lucifer coolly. "Permission to state my case?"

"Go on," said God. "But keep it brief."

"Why do You send angels to face the devil? Don't you realize humans are maggots, and you can't stop a maggot from eating dead flesh? They're evil by nature. They're born Your enemies. What makes You think You can save them? I command all your fallen, and together we'll take Your throne back, mark my words! What makes you think they or your angels can prevail against me? I am Lucifer, the Son of the Morning! I am the Lord of the Air! And this world is mine, and damn your Son for stealing the Morningstar light that is so rightfully MINE!"

Voices of angels rumbled around him in anger, but God called them to silence before He answered.

"I've noticed," said God acidly, "that you don't insult Me directly to My face. You slander My children, My begotten Son, but say nothing against Me. Explain yourself."

Lucifer shuffled on his feet. "Who could insult Your Majesty?" Of course he'd insulted God many times when he thought he couldn't be heard. But he would never do it to His face. He knew God was too powerful to be trifled with—and resented it.

"Answer me, Satan." It was not a suggestion.

"Your Majesty," said Lucifer, in his most flattering voice, "I have no problem with Your strength and power. Indeed, those are the very things I crave, if I were to be perfectly honest. It is simply what You do with them that perplexes me. Give dominion, salvation even, to these human weaklings, and not to angels? Send Your Son to die for them? Even You admit these humans drive you to rage and frustration. I just can't understand why You let them go on at all, if they trouble You so very much. Why not just wipe them from the face of the Earth? Or better yet, spare Your efforts, and just let me have them. You know this is what they all really want, the sick lot of death-infested sinners they are. Right?"

"I made them in My image and I intend to make them My sons and daughters. By insulting humanity you insult Me. Your challenge has been made, Satan."

"And?" said Lucifer. "Are you going to answer me?"

"In due time."

"Hah! In due time! You always say that and do nothing. What kind of a God is that? Letting me win the battles, making empty promises to win the war?"

"If you could see like Me," rumbled God softly, "you'd see you have not won anything. It's by My grace you're still breathing."

Lucifer did not appreciate the reminder.

"Well, then," he snapped back, eager to recover his pride. "I'll corrupt them. You'll see."

Michael and Gabriel lurched into action. "Father, just give us the word, we'll hurl him out of Heaven a second time!"

"No need," said God. "Let the one who was once Lucifer go in peace. His defeat will come in due time."

Michael and Gabriel shrank back, slightly disappointed but respectful of God's command.

Lucifer smiled at them. "Farewell, dear weak forgiver! Let the games begin!" He turned away, trailing light and his heavy purple cloak behind him.

When he was out of sight, Michael and Gabriel turned to God.

"Father, what is to be done? How will You protect Your children from this?"

God did not immediately answer them. There was a silence for a short time, then—

"Messengers!"

Suddenly, there appeared before the throne of Heaven an army of angels standing at attention, holding golden trumpets and ready to blast.

"Go out to the Earth and call together My army. Tell them the time has come to turn to Me and rely on My strength, for the end is near. Some will heed, and some will ignore, and some will struggle. I have given them free will, so they may choose as they wish. Call each of them by name. Go forth."

Michael and Gabriel watched as the angels saluted and fanned out all across the earth stretching out beneath them. Every man, woman, and child would receive the call. Who would answer?