Dufaii - The Patron Saints of the Damned Book I
Chapter 5 - A Battered Host

“There are critical moments when it feels like the course of your life can change in an instant. The storm was not just physical pain, nor just a psychic attempt to terrify us all into compliance. Had it come from anyone else, we angels would have rallied together against the threat and gone to war. It would have simply been physical and mental pain which we could have quickly overcome and recovered from in full.

What made the attack so terrible was that it came from the Creator, they who each of us trusted more than anyone. They who were the closest thing to a parent we knew, no matter how long they had slept. That the Creator had done this was shattering to all angels, an event that seeped into the vulnerabilities of each angel’s heart to decimate them entirely.

When someone you love and for whose love you yearn desperately finally calls upon you, only to threaten you and hurt you, it is life-altering. It is an attack that knows how to weave between every mental fortitude, every confidence, every bit of knowing who you are–to cut the core of your identity.

As an added result, all your insecurities become exposed, they become tantamount to who you are. For me, the Creator’s Storm broke any hope or desire to ever connect to another being again. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t be hurt in the same way again. The loneliness was almost as painful, but it was a pain I could deal with as the Creator’s words echoed in my memory, making me feel my lack of worth. Sure, I was alone. But that was what I deserved … what I was meant for.”

-Dufaii the Godkiller “On Parenthood” Page 3.

-O-

Dufaii didn’t know where he was for an instant. He heard a large sound and his mind went into overdrive. He felt dizzy and disoriented. His chest and stomach both felt squeezed, like they were being constricted by a large serpent. Though he wanted to raise his hands defensively, run, or even fly, he couldn’t. His limbs felt tremendously heavy and he barely had the energy to remain standing.

After a few minutes had passed, a thought occurred to him that perhaps he was not in danger. So, he took a sharp breath, opened his eyes wide, and forced himself to take account of what was happening around him.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a soft warmth on Dufaii’s skin. It wasn’t a pleasanty he could appreciate, but it was something outside of himself that he could concentrait on. Also, the presence of sun meant that the sky was not overcast by titanic clouds, the rumble of thunder, or orange lightning.

Dufaii looked down and saw that his hands were trembling violently. He looked around for what could have caused the loud explosive sound. All he could hear now were the sounds of pickaxes striking rock in rapid succession. There was a heavy smell of dust on the air … from the miners, as well as the burning smell of distant refiners smelting and shaping metal from the mountains.

Dufaii continued to focus on what was around him. He realized that he was standing beside the freshly built stone buildings that he had helped to construct. They were gray, squat little barracks that the Archangel Michael used for training his guard.

Before the loud sound, Dufaii now remembered that he had been inside the barracks, training with the guard. He looked down and saw his loose-fitting gray clothing that he wore for training. His clothes weren’t the same as the white training uniforms worn by the members of the guard as Dufaii was not an official member. He mostly went to speak with Michael … and frequently ended up sparring in the meantime.

Before the explosion of rock, Dufaii had actually been on his way to the lake to bathe, wash his training clothes, and change into his gray robes. Everything was coming back to him now … and he was becoming calmer as he settled back into what he had been doing.

Dufaii breathed in and out, something he’d noticed himself doing more as of later. Most angels did not breathe unless they were talking, as they had no need to. But he found that it … helped with the pain. Just like it helped to let his mind wander to innocuous things of the sort.

Dufaii thought about the other physical adaptions that angels had taken from mortals. The ability to eat and to copulate came to mind. Such pleasurable physical activities were not necessary to angels but enjoyable to some, none the less.

Dufaii had adopted breathing early, to help him smell the plants that he studied. Now it felt almost as necessary for him as for a mortal. He took another drawn out breath and then continued his walk toward the lake, which was about a mile away. He could have flown, but he hadn’t been able to take much pleasure in that recently. He didn’t want to see Heaven from above. Also … he could still picture the horrific injuries of angels who had been flying when the Creator woke.

As Dufaii walked, he noticed an angel dressed in red wraps. The angel was staring at him from a slight distance away. Dufaii found his stares to be … odd. Had the angel in red wraps watched his entire freak-out from the moment of the rock explosion?

Dufaii felt embarrassment but also a hint of irritation. However, these feelings quickly changed to a strange and uncomfortable sensation as the angel in red wraps walked directly towards him, making eye-contact all the way. When the angel reached him, he handed Dufaii a tightly rolled strip of paper, sealed with wax.

“A message for you, Dufaii,” said the angel in red. This angel had pale skin, no hair, and features which favored those of the Eastern gods and their people. He was small in stature, with neatly groomed black wings. “My name is Kueng.”

“Thank you,” Dufaii said and tried to think of something else to say. Since the storm, speaking had become even more difficult for him. Whereas before, he had experienced light awkwardness and shyness, his attempts to interact with others now caused him to feel afraid. Like any given person was just … waiting to attack him the moment his guard was down.

His politeness seemed to be enough for Kueng, however. The angel nodded politely, turned his back, and walked away.

Dufaii exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He felt relieved and noted an odd fondness for this angel who hadn’t forced him to suffer the encounter any longer than necessary. Dufaii opened the rolled strip of paper and read what was inside.

“Meet me in the deepest crater, where the sixth peak of Heaven once stood.” -The Lightbringer

Immediately, Dufaii’s heart raced. While it wasn’t unheard of for the Lightbringer or the Archangel to use a summons when busy, it was not commonplace either. Heaven was simply very small. And after so much time, angels generally knew where to find one another.

Perhaps the Lightbringer was busy … but then why meet somewhere so unusual and private? No, something definitely felt off. Part of Dufaii thought about talking to the Archangel Michael about it.

However, Dufaii remembered what the first Creator … what Mother had told him about the Lightbringer. They embodied the protective spirit of the Creator, in the same way Dufaii embodied the Creator’s love for plantlife.

Dufaii shuddered and let his head hang. Somehow, he knew that whatever this was would be something difficult. And the truth was that he didn’t feel like he had the emotional fortitude to handle any more difficulty. Between the anxiety attacks he faced with every loud noise and having watched his home become a labor-camp, just existing wore on him nearly more than he felt he could bear.

Dufaii gritted his teeth, shook his head, and began to walk toward the mountains.

It was a long and mostly empty trek, with only a few members of the guard flying overhead. Between the barracks and the mountains was a less dense expanse of forest that had been partially cut down for construction material. So, as Dufaii hiked through the woods, he had fairly good visibility over the stumps.

Eventually, the trees thinned further and Dufaii began to make his way on a loose rocky terrain. It wasn’t long before there were no trees or stumps at all, just a vast expanse of craters and a small remnant of the sixth peak, now no taller than a redwood tree. Only a few angels could be seen mining it. Most, he’d heard, were now tunneling underground.

Dufaii was not exactly sure which crater was the deepest; however he was also not in a hurry. With the state of his rapid breaths and rapidly beating heart, he could not afford to act frantically. So, he forced himself to slowly walk along the loose stones, the sharp bare rocks, the smaller craters, and the hills created by the mining process.

Walking in the craters and between hills made Dufaii sure that only angels flying directly above could have seen him. This was especially true once he reached what had to be the deepest crater by far. The bottom of the crater was deep, cast in shadow even though the sun was almost directly overhead.

Dufaii crouched and slid down one side, until he was at the bottom. There, he looked around, still wary. He did not see anyone at first, so he folded his arms tensely and waited.

Then, a shadow passed over the crater. He sensed the familiar presence and great power of the Lightbringer, the same as what it had been in the Holy of Holies on the day of the Storm.

The Lightbringer landed with their signature shepherd’s crook in hand, with a completely new physical appearance. Their form had light blue skin like the sky lit by the sun and darker blue wings that caught the light and carried it in waves. This form was androgynous. They wore a white robe that fit loosely as the clouds.

It seemed there was always an intangible quality that distinguished them from other angels … an artistry. Even without their crook and their powerful aura, their forms were such that they would always be unmistakable for any other being.

Dufaii opened his mouth to speak a greeting.

However, the Lightbringer lifted a hand to stop him. They looked around with a distrustful grimace before firmly shaking their head. Then, they signaled upward, an understood gesture of flight.

Dufaii hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like what was happening, didn’t feel safe when even the Lightbringer seemed suspicious that they were being watched. In his mind, Dufaii replayed the memory of what the Creator had about the Lightbringer, that they were to be trusted. It was the only memory which brought him any sense of ease.

Then, Dufaii took a deep breath and opened his wings. He and the Lightbringer flapped their wings in graceful rotations to slowly rise. Soon, they passed the surface and were in the sky.

The Lightbringer led the way, directing them toward the backside of the mountain, slightly cast in shadow. They flew through the trees, changing directions several time, until they finally landed at the highly forested summit of one of the mountains.

From there, Dufaii could see all of Heaven as they stood in the shade of an evergreen tree. On the far side stood the Holy of Holies–the building that the angels had built lovingly around their sleeping Creator. Between the mountains and the Holy of Holies was a lake, surrounded by little makeshift huts, some made of hardened clay–the dwellings of the faerie, goblins, beasts, humans, and miscellaneous races had made a small but growing community there.

A single look at the rest of Heaven showed that living as an angel was not what it had once been. The Archangel Raphael had begun work on a great towering library. After the Storm, many angels had flocked to her to take solace in creating various arts to try to placate the Creator. However, this lasted only so long before the Creator took charge and began to demand specific services of the angels.

Only the brightest of angels were now afforded the privilege of working inside. The rest labored on a wall that stretched around the entirety of Heaven, like a ring of death that cut through all vegetation and leaked foul dust into the surrounding sea.

Current members of the guard, and prospective members of the guard were sent to construct the barracks and then train as soldiers under the Archangel Michael. They had only recently finished constructing several dozen stone barracks on the side of the lake opposite of the library. Those who were now guards would either be patrolling the finished sections of the wall, training at the barracks, or overseeing construction projects as authoritarian figures to make sure all angels worked at full capacity.

Then, there were a select few angels overseen by Gabriel who tended to the Creator directly, as they had done during the Creator’s sleep. This was the least coveted position in Heaven, and many had elected to labor in the mines instead.

“I think you have an idea of why I asked you here,” the Lightbringer said softly.

Dufaii sighed deeply as he looked at the state of Heaven below. He replied, “It’s all … this. It’s wrong. We all know it.”

“I find it unacceptable,” the Lightbringer agreed.

Dufaii nodded. He’d seen similar thoughts in the eyes of the younger angels who did not know to guard their minds. Rumors had begun to spread that the Lightbringer was in open disagreement with the Archangels about continuing to build up Heaven for war as the Creator demanded.

“When I first met the Creator,” The Lightbringer said, “I thought it a parental spirit full of compassion and reason. They had seen firsthand the madness of the elder god they tried to heal … and eventually had to destroy. They made us for war … but for an effort to achieve protection of the mortal world. We were to defend the physical realm against any gods who fell to madness or lust for power. Then the Creator himself went to sleep, exhausted from the act of creation, and awoke as something I didn’t recognize.”

Dufaii didn’t say anything. He stayed quiet … like he’d always done. Just standing there terrified him, causing his arms to tremble until he folded them forcefully to hide it.

The Lightbringer continued, “The Creator has changed. They have refused to see me and speaks only through the Archangels. And the way the three of them look at me and turn me away every time I request to speak with the Creator … it makes me think that they have now been made to fear me.”

“We aren’t strong enough to defend ourselves from the Creator if the Archangels don’t help us,” Dufaii whispered as he watched the misery beneath him. His voice cracked and choked a little, and he clenched his jaw tightly to keep it from happening again. “If we get hit by another storm … it will end us. We’ll end up just like the sleeping gods. We can’t stay here.”

The Lightbringer was quiet for a moment and then said, “No, we can’t.”

“But the gods below … they are all becoming just like the Creator. The one that attacked me was as broken and insane as the most feral human I have ever witnessed. There are countless elder and lesser gods down there. And they will not see us as protectors, but as enemies.”

The Lightbringer spoke with a calm and somber tone, which seemed to reassure but also convey their shared feelings of doubt. “Unfortunately, it is the only place to go, lest we choose to wander the dead galaxies of the universe like the lost elder gods. However, I think we can find our own place between those beings of power, even if we must fight for it. Though the gods are ruthless and many, they do not command such terrible power as the Creator. The mortal realm is our best option.”

Dufaii remained silent. Even though he agreed, something inside him needed to keep control of himself. He wanted to trust the Lightbringer, to trust anyone; however, he was absolutely terrified of doing so. If the Creator could torment the angels as they had and if the Archangels would do nothing but allow the abuse to happen again, how could Dufaii trust this mysterious being he barely knew. Yet … his desperation for any hope was enough to at least listen to what the Lightbringer had to say.

The Lightbringer looked at the scene below and gestured to the largest concentration of labor below. The bustling movement of angels and smoke could be seen even from so far away. “You’ve been down there, what does the treatment of your brethren truly remind you of?”

Dufaii looked at the long trails of angels he knew to be carving at stones and passing them along towards one of the newest sections of the wall. It was an action that he had only ever seen humans do. Sometimes, humans employed servants to do such tasks. The servants were paid with gold, trinkets, land, animals, or some recompence for their labor. Other times, humans worked for free because the building of a wall was an understood necessity of survival. In those cases, the work could be done with songs and joy. There was no joy here, no smiles or songs, and certainly no recompense. There were only masses of defeated angels who occasionally managed fearful glances at the Holy of Holies. These glances were the same as those that human slaves gave their masters for reassurance that their work was pleasing. Surely, Dufaii thought that the angels were not the same as the human slaves forced to build their own prisons. And yet, what else could he call beings who served under threat of violence?

“Why are you telling me all this?” Dufaii asked. The muscles in his neck and shoulder became painfully tight and he began to shake his head even before he knew that he was doing so.

“Michael told me in great detail about your actions under the threat of almost-certain destruction,” the Lightbringer replied. “You felt fear and yet you acted in defiance to your circumstance. Just like you fear what I am telling you. Yet you are still here. You have the capacity for courage, you care deeply about the wellbeing of your brethren, you have seen more battle firsthand than any other angel, and you have the capacity to keep your thoughts and even your aura secret.”

“I …” Dufaii began, trying to find the words to voice his distrust without seeming cruel to the being who had trusted him with so much.

The Lightbringer nodded and spoke the words that Dufaii searched for. “Lastly, you have learned something of unfortunate value from your pain—distrust. What makes you so hesitant to act, what pushes you further from connection to anyone around you, is what also makes you the right person to trust with what I have told you. There is nobody better suited to carrying this secret and acting upon it than you.”

Dufaii did not reply, he didn’t know how he possibly could. And he certainly did not consider himself the best person to trust with anything.

“There is a choice we must make,” the Lightbringer said, closing their eyes and clenching their jaw.

“It doesn’t feel like there is ever a choice,” Dufaii replied in a hushed voice. He turned his face away and felt the muscles in his face and throat tense until they hurt.

The Lightbringer replied with an empathetic tone, turning to face him. They put a hand on his shoulder. “Dufaii, no matter what happens we always have a choice. We can choose to do nothing so that we approach destruction and misery slowly, with our heads low. We can try to change things for the better if that is possible. Or we can try to walk away. No matter what the situation, those three options will always remain. You can’t forget that; it’s what makes us free.”

Dufaii paused in deep thought for a moment, running his hands back through his own hair. “The Creator wants all our power dedicated to defending Heaven from the gods. They will use that power … even if they have to rip it from us.”

Even as an immortal, Dufaii knew from what he’d seen in the cave of the gods that there were ways for immortals to die. Surely the Creator could find a way to end their existence. Even if he couldn’t, he could easily torment them into madness with another storm.

“If we decide to leave, we will have the advantage of training to defend ourselves from the guard,” the Lightbringer said, looking none too happy about it. “We’ll find comrades who can help us, whose eyes gleam with the same anger and fear that we feel. Perhaps death and defeat are still likely. What we must decide is whether we would rather face a sure-life under the heel of a tyrannical king or face the possibility of death as we act with purpose in the hopes of a better future.”

Dufaii closed his eyes, wishing that this were all just a bad dream that he could wake from. He didn’t want to choose between being considered a traitor to his people and leaving them to their slavery. It was too much for an angel who could barely even speak to others.

The Lightbringer continued. “I am not demanding you ally yourself with me or commit to escape alongside your brethren. All I will ask of you is to live out the freedom you were once given, to act as a being who is worthy of freedom and value, instead of acting the part of a slave. There will be no demand that you attack your brethren or go to war against your maker. We wouldn’t have the numbers for it, even if it were possible. Just work at my side, see what I see, and make your own choices … even if that means that you side against me. If you see that my actions are wrong, there could be no greater act of loyalty to your brethren than to convince me of that or to bring my treachery to light.”

Dufaii thought about this. He wasn’t being asked to trust, nor to act. The only thing being asked of him was an open mind and a bit of courage.

Remembering the Creator as they had been, Dufaii imagined that they once might have agreed with what the Lightbringer was now saying. Because though the ideas of escape and rebellion frightened Dufaii, he knew that nothing the Lightbringer has said was a lie. Again, the Creator’s final words to Dufaii stuck out to him … to trust the Lightbringer.

Dufaii swallowed forcefully and forced himself to say, “I can do that.”

The Lightbringer smiled as if they hadn’t quite expected that answer. Then, they returned their gaze to Heaven below.

Dufaii did the same and listened to the sounds of rocks being broken by his brothers and sisters. As he watched, the wind gradually picked up. This seemed like a simple oddity at first. However, the weather in Heaven was never intense, especially not as it was building to be.

Dufaii began to breathe fast, too fast. His body tensed and he could barely think from the terror spreading through him. He could no longer hear anything but the wind rushing through the mountain, rustling leaves, and whistling as it passed through branches. The sky around darkened quickly and thunder began to rumble from afar.Dufaii looked down and saw the angels scatter. His eyes began to water, and he whispered, “Did the Creator hear us?”

The Lightbringer shook their head, furrowed their brow, and gritted their teeth. “No, the Creator can no longer hear the words of their people. It is the nature of what they have become! Abuse is never a singular event; it is an escalation that never ceases. We need to get to lower ground, quickly!”

The Lightbringer ran forward and dove off the cliff.

-O-

“Before the Creator slept, they told me the reason that I was given power greater than our brothers and sisters. I was to protect and lead all of you in the battle against those gods that threaten our existence and that of the humans. However, this was not the only instruction that I was given.

I was given the power to destroy the Creator.

The Creator told me that they felt a great sleep coming upon them; you yourself no doubt saw the tired look in their eyes. They confided in me a fear that the same madness would come upon them when they woke.

For this reason, they divided the majority of of their dwindling power among the angels. We were to try to save them or remind them of who they truly were. And if that was not possible … then we were to ensure the Creator’s death.

Of course, the council of Archangels knows this, the three of you were told the same upon your awakening. I implore you, give this information to the rest of our brethren and honor the Creator’s wishes.”

-unredacted testimony from “The Lightbringer’s Appeal to the Council of Archangels.” pg. 3

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