Lucifers Lost Angel

Chapter One | He Never Told Her His Name

“What does Eloa mean?” 

He narrowed his gaze, answered her literally. “It’s the name of an angel.” 

Penelope tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve never heard of him.” 

“You wouldn’t have.” 

“Was he a fallen angel?” 

“She was, yes.” He hesitated, not wanting to tell her the story, but unable to stop himself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.” 

“Tricked her how?” 

He met her gaze. “She fell in love with him.” 

Penelope’s eyes widened. “Did he love her?” 

Like an addict loves his addiction. “The only way he knew how.” 

She shook her head. “How could he trick her?” 

“He never told her his name.”  

. 

. 

. 

"Good morning Angels, I hope you had a good rest yesterday. Today we are looking into the underworld. Also known as hell." Sleep, funny she was talking about that. Since I barely had any, the wings were growing, my back was aching me. Wings were the most painful to grow but the most beautiful when It's fully bloomed. Everyone had their own colour wing; the colour of your wing decides what job suits you bed for the over world. The over world. The reality of Angels.  

It was said, if you had White wings then you were to be working along with God. Or at least one of them. Nobody in our class had White wings, it was the most uncommon colour in heaven. If you have the colour, it means God chose you himself. Which is a blessing. But that blessing was not what I wanted nor want. I would rather not have the entire economy of Angels look at me as if I was one of the jewels to the gateway of heaven.  

"Artemis! Are you listening to me? Or is you pen more intriguing then learning about the history of our kind." My head lifted from the table; my eyes were matched with her own brown ones. "It seems so, well then, if you think you know a lot by not listening. Answer me this question. Was Lucifer once an Angel?" 

"Yes, Lucifer was an Angel." She nods her head and walks back behind her desk before evening onto it, the palm of her hands collides with the wood.  

"What is he now?" 

"A Satan." 

"Do we allow Satan's in heaven?" 

"No ma'am." 

"Why was Lucifer banished from heaven?" She continued questioning. 

"Lucifer was cast out from heaven primarily due to his pride and selfish desire to be like God or even surpass God’s powers and might." I answered, she turns away as she continues the lesson. Though my thought were then distracted by Lucifer himself.  

Was he really known to be the most beautiful? If he was now a Satan then he probably is not. So why did I feel guilt for him? Why did I feel like there was more to the story than him being casted out of heaven? It couldn't have been due to pride; I believe there is more and I wanted to find out. I wanted to know everything about Lucifer, how he can be against God? The questions I wanted to ask him, the questions I wanted to answers too were never going to be replied. 

I knew that, because he was vanished. Vanished far away and it was mere impossible for any Angel to get into hell. I remember the stories I was once told by my mother. A story about an Angel going into hell and never coming back. I wanted to know that story, I wanted it in detail.  

I raised my hand up enough for the teacher to catch sight of it, she puts down the book of angels onto the table. "Yes Artemis." She mumbles. 

"What was the story of the un returned Angel?" Her eyes projected, in fear. She looks down at her table, shaking her head. Clearly not wanting to answer one simple question that had only one simple answer to. Ignoring my question, she opens her book and continues reading. 

After lesson, everyone has left the classroom leaving me alone to pack my things. I pushed my light brown hair behind my ears as it continues grazing my cheeks. The moment it grows my bag over my shoulder, I noticed Ms Anna gazing at me as if she was intrigued. "No one has ever asked that question before, so tell me Artemis. Why are you?" 

"I-I don't know ma'am, I was thinking of it-" 

"Then don't think of it, this is not a topic to bring up in front of anyone. Do you understand?" I stayed silent, what more could I have said to her. "I said, do you understand Artemis?" She repeated, even more aggravated. I look down to my feet, removing any eye contact as possible. I was a terrible liar. Terrible. Everyone knew that. So instead of speaking, I nodded my head.  

"Good. Now leave my classroom and get some rest, you look tired." I slam the door closed behind me as I entered the rushing hallways of the school. My heart, my mind was pulling me somewhere. Or was it my wings. I took a look back, there was nothing. Why was I the late bloomer?  

Though, the moment I began walking, my feet dragged me towards the library. All I wanted to do was go home, go home and sleep. I was tired but I knew deep down, I would not be able to sleep no matter how much I tried. So instead, I pushed open the library door. The colours, order and silence of different things surrounded me as I rushed towards the historical side.  

Throwing my bag onto the floor, my hands graze each and every book. Stacking every one that had to do with Lucifer and that Angel. Not until, I figure out to see a small book. In-between others, I slowly snuck it out. The dust articulated all over it, I brought it towards my mouth blowing it off as my finger wipe the remains. 

I sat down abasing the shelf of books, the wooden floor seemed inviting enough. I slowly opened it, my eyes widen when I noticed it was not in a printed format, except it was written. The hand writing was beautiful. I have not seen such writing before. I opened the first page, revealing the date that seemed to be nineteen years ago. A few years after I was born.  

3rd January 1768, 

A late bloomer of which I was being told to be, clearly the anger inside of me seethed me. I was angry, angry knowing that I will not know my place unless these wings grow from me. Every other Angel had their wings, including Gabriel. Oh, how I hated him, I despised the man, I know Angels shouldn't be feeling such a way but I did. My own brother grew wings but I didn't.  

How would I ever know the feeling that has deprived me, the feeling of jealousy I might say? But I was not like that, I knew that jealousy was forbidden in the eyes of God. I am a good man; I am a good Angel. So why was this happening to me? Why was I becoming this way? 

This man, was a late bloomer. The same as me, this man or woman? I needed to know who has written this and to see if they still appear to be here or if they have tased away after the war with the vampires. I flicked towards the a few more pages, skipping some until my eyes rested on a half-written piece at the end of the diary. 

9th December 1781, 

I am being casted out of heaven, casted because I have been told I have too much pride and jealousy. But I do not, I do not have pride. Like I said before I am a good man, I do not know what is becoming of me. I asked God for help, I told him my problems and instead he casted me out. So, this is the last time I am writing in this diary.  

I was being blamed for things I have not known to do, I have been blamed for having pride, for having natural feelings of a human. So, if this is what they blame me to be, then I shall become it. I will remove any such emotions I used to have, that include love as well. Since the love of my own people turned against me. Angels are the devils. 

"Hey, we are closing, go home." I looked up seeing the librarian, she rolls her eyes as she continues sweeping the floors. I stood up holding the diary in my very own hand. Lucifer was a good man; Lucifer has always been nothing but a good man. I may have not met him, but the word in this book has clearly done something to me. 

Something I never thought of doing, I wanted to help him. To see if he still wanted our help. Because Angels are not devils. I was going to prove that to him. I stood up; my bag was being dragged as I flicked to the second page of his diary. 

7th January 1768, 

To this day, I have slightly grown my wings. My wings were still not showing It is colour but my mother told me they will. My brother Gabriel has turned out to produce White wings. White beautiful wings to which I envied him of. Envy, the word that is ruining my own thinking. I should not be feeling this way. I am a good man. Or is that what I tell myself. I help others, I help the poor, I help the rich. I help the children. I am doing nothing but good deeds. So why do I feel like God is challenging me? Me only. 

8th January 1768, 

A few inches bigger than before, the colour is still not showing. Though I felt something tug onto my heart today. I saw this beautiful woman; she was probably only a few years younger than me. Her eyes were the colour of the sky. Her eyes were the blue of every dancing sky, infinite hues illuminated by new-born light. Her hair, was golden brown infused with-oh what am I doing. What am I doing? Writing about someone who is clearly too beautiful for me. 

I shut the book as I excited the bus, entering my home. "Mother?" I shouted aloud. I rushed up the stairs throwing the book and my bag onto my bed before leaving my room to enter the living room. I saw my grandmother sitting not he couch. "Where is mother?" I asked her politely, she answered that she was at work. 

I groaned, my heart bursting for questions. "What do you want to ask dear?" My hands lifted me up, how did she know? "Because I know everything, now tell me dear. What has kept you from your sleep?" 

"Grandmother? But I-" 

"I said tell me." 

"Lucifer, grandmother. Lucifer has been on my mind; I have many questions to ask but no one would ever return." I said, my grandmother stopped her knitting. She pointed to the curtains, I stood up and slowly slid them closed before settling back down. 

"Lucifer, I remember that boy. A troubled man but with a good heart. A heart purer than any soul." She whispered, I was suddenly intrigued, she knew Lucifer. She knew him yet she kept her words restricted. "Lucifer did not deserve to be cashed out of heaven, if anything it was his brother. He never helped him when he asked for it. I tried my best but Lucifer was too lost. He had feelings of a human, envy, pride, guilt and many more. Such things that Angels should not be feeling. They say God made him out of fire, he had the-" 

"Mother, do not seduce my daughter with your nonsense of a story. Artemis, you should be in bed. Now." I groaned, wanting to know ore but I knew I couldn't challenge her, I stood up leaving the room. Only to be hearing my mother complain to my grandmother about her nonsense. I wanted to know what else she had to say. She knew Lucifer.  

And if my suspicions were true. 

Then Lucifer was a pure man.  

Who was being mistreated?.