Angel from the Past
The sky no longer merely watched.
It descended.
Amid the nameless mist hanging above Raventhorn, a silver rift split open. A blinding flash of light dripped down to the lower world like the tears of God refusing to fall. From it emerged a winged being with eight wings, standing atop the wind without a sound, clad in white-blue armor of light—so divine even time dared not age it.
He was Aetherion.
The oldest angel.
Guardian of the Third Gate of Heaven.
Brother of Rai'el—bound by celestial blood that had long been cast off.
Seraphine sensed the change in the sky. Unlike usual, the voice in her blood hissed—a primal warning from the demon ancestors, only awakened when Heaven intended to obliterate Hell completely.
Rai'el entered the throne room, his face grim.
"He's here," he whispered.
"Who?"
"Aetherion. An angel who has never failed a single mission from Heaven. Even I—who once fought beside him—am not sure I can stop him."
Seraphine rose, her eyes glowing dark. "Then we must prepare."
Meanwhile, Kaelion, who was beginning to recover, started showing strange symptoms. His body absorbed the surrounding magic at an abnormal rate. Every time he slept, the space around him would freeze—then ignite.
When examined by the Elders of the Demons and the grand sorcerers of Raventhorn, they discovered something shocking: the child in Seraphine and Kaelion's womb carried divine traces.
"Heavenly blood," said the sorcerer. "That child will be the key to balance. Or destruction."
Seraphine fell silent for a long while. "It's Rai'el's blood... and mine."
When Aetherion finally appeared in the skies above Raventhorn, the demon army stood ready—but none dared strike first. Aetherion only floated there, his voice echoing across the infernal plains.
"Seraphine, Queen of Darkness... come to me. Not as a queen. But as a woman who loves a fallen angel."
Rai'el clenched his jaw. "He wants you to choose."
Seraphine emerged, clad in a black cloak and a crown of fire. She looked straight into the heavens.
"Aetherion. If you've come to end my love, then I will turn it into war."
Aetherion descended slowly, his feet touching the courtyard of the palace. And for the first time, Seraphine saw the angel's face. Aetherion's eyes were like the sky before rain—unshaken, but not unscarred.
"Once... Rai'el was our hope," Aetherion said. "And you, Seraphine, are the destruction he chose."
That day, without weapons, without magic, without the sound of war, Seraphine and Aetherion clashed—with words.
About love deemed sinful.
About a child deemed cursed.
About a queen's right to love and be protected—even if the world calls her a demon.
Aetherion drew his heavenly blade.
"If you do not surrender that child... and sever your bond with Rai'el, then Heaven will fall like a storm."
Seraphine stood, her belly beginning to round. She looked at Aetherion the way a mother looks at a threat to her child.
"Come with all your heavens, Aetherion. For I will not surrender love. I will not surrender my child. And I will not surrender Rai'el."
The sky trembled. Hell ignited.
And love—finally—became a battlefield.
One day after Aetherion threatened Seraphine's love and offspring, all of Raventhorn turned into a city under shadows.
The sky above continued to rumble. Lightning did not strike, but drizzled—like tears refusing to fall.
Seraphine summoned the entire High Demon Council. In the Blood Hall, she stood tall in her flowing purple cloak, as if even time bowed to the edge of its threads. Rai'el was at her side, and Kaelion sat at the right of the Demon Throne.
"Heaven has sent a message," said Lich Val'toren, the Guardian of the Dimensional Gate. He handed over a pale white scroll, sealed with a burning blue wax.
Seraphine opened it slowly. Inside was a single sentence:
"In three full moons, Heaven shall deliver judgment."
No name. No signature. But everyone knew—this was Aetherion's ultimatum.
That night, Seraphine held a banquet.
Unlike usual victory feasts, this banquet was held in a dining hall filled with magical symbols. Each candle burned by a cursed time. Demon lords from all corners of the underworld gathered. There was the Blood Lord of Morthal, the Shadow Queen of Haluven, even the Demon-Titan Hybrid from the ruins of Vetramoor.
"If Heaven wishes to destroy us," Seraphine said while swirling a chalice of blood in her hand, "then let us welcome them with a palace drenched in golden blood."
Rai'el stood. "Aetherion brings more than war. He brings vengeance. Vengeance against me—for choosing you all. Vengeance against a love that defies Heaven's script."
The demons nodded in grim agreement. But then, from beyond the crowd, came a hoarse voice:
"You forget, Seraphine, that not all from Heaven were your enemies."
All turned. From the shadows stepped out a woman with silver hair and violet eyes—identical to Seraphine's, but her face was older, wiser.
"Mother Veil..." Seraphine whispered.
Her mother—long presumed lost in the centuries-old war between Heaven and Hell.
"I return not as a demon. But as a former angel—cast out by Heaven for loving a human."
The room froze. Her presence opened a new chapter in history: that love had, time and again, split Heaven and Hell apart.
That same night, Kaelion came to Seraphine's chamber. The boy had grown tall, and his eyes had begun to show two distinct colors: gold like a demon, and deep blue like divine blood.
"Am I... the cause of this war?" he asked softly.
Seraphine knelt and embraced him. "You are the reason I fight everything. You are not the cause of this war. You are the reason the world must change."
Kaelion hugged her back. For the first time, the child cried.
And for the first time, Seraphine allowed her tears to fall.
Later that night, Rai'el came silently into Seraphine's room. No armor. No sword. Just himself—and his feelings.
He sat beside her on the bed, resting his head gently against Seraphine's growing belly.
"Can we just stay like this? No Heaven. No war."
Seraphine gave a tired smile. "If the world would allow it... I would like to give birth to this child in a garden of flowers—not a battlefield."
Rai'el looked up at her. "Then I will build that garden. Even if I must raise it from the bones of angels."
This chapter closed with a new omen:
A falling star descended from the sky. But it was no ordinary star. It was the body of a guardian angel—burned by holy fire. A punishment for defiance.
In the angel's hand was his final letter:
"Aetherion has begun to cleanse Heaven. All who sympathize with you... will burn."
Seraphine closed her eyes. Her womb pulsed.
And the ancient voice in her blood cried out:
"Three full moons remain... before Heaven burns