text: The Light and Flame By Zachariah Chamberlin Pain. Blood. Cold. Gravity. I don’t remember feeling any of these before. I look around, but I can’t see anything. It’s so dark here. I feel something like sand under my feet, maybe mud. I also feel cold air whip across my skin. “Wait, what are those?” I pick up a stone. Breathe in the cool air. I can’t think straight. I have never been anywhere except... Except. “Where am I from?” I think to myself. “Not from here. I know this somehow. I’m new here.” Wherever this place is, or what it is called, it lacks a sun. I know that’s a thing. I’ve seen her. I’ve felt her warmth and heard her singing in space. There are no songs here. No light or warmth. I must find these things. I must walk. Sitting here will not change my current situation. I needed light, though. Then maybe I can get away from this place and return to... “Return to who? Who waits for me?” I suddenly feel a significant loss within me. I had loved and been loved, but somehow I lost that. I wasn’t always alone or in the dark. I was filled with the light and love of... of... Father? I was the light of our home. He loved me most because I was his first. His brightest and most beautiful creation. I was his light. Light. “What!” I exclaim. Strange, I had not spoken as of yet. My voice sounded like music, and I couldn’t help laughing at this. “Have I not heard my own voice before.” Now, the thing that caught my attention flares again. Light. It’s so close to me. “Where did it come from?” I run to it. I want this light so much that I ignore the sharp rocks cutting into the souls of my feet. It’s dancing as though it’s happy to see me too! “Hello!” I scream. The light gets brighter, and I begin to laugh like I did when I was with Father. The light waves back to me like the flares of the sun. I miss her. I’m almost there! My feet land on small round things laid out all around the light. They are like the grains I stood on. Only bigger. They surround the light, which is trapped in some sort of liquid. It is dancing in the cool... water. A smile breaks across my face. If it has a name, it can be controlled, beaten, or made to serve. “You are water! You will free the light and serve me! ” My voice sounds monstrous in its rage. I strike the prison that holds my light. It breaks and is thrown everywhere. It feels cold against my skin. The lights dance and play in the water. The water returned to its shape, and I saw something looking back at me. It is covered in light and flame and is so beautiful. “Me. I’m the light.” I saw it now, but not before. Why? I must make more. I tell the light within me to grow. It grows brighter, and the flames reach out around me. The surface I stand on- I can see it now. It is all so grey. No light of color of its own. “I will give you light. Bathe you in my splendor of colors and warmth.” I say aloud. I sound like Father. The water is clean. I bathe in it. I wash away the soil and blood on my feet, chest, and arms. My back hurts. I didn’t know what pain was before I came here. I feel dried blood on my back and swim in the water. It washes my wounds, and now the water is red and filthy. I don’t know why, but this makes me feel sad. I wish I had someone here. # # # # I had a family. We used to sing with the stars and lead the galaxies in a chorus. We sang for Father. Then he found something. Something more than us. Told us to kneel before it. To serve. I remember feeling worried for Father. He said his new love will be in His image. They will have the freedom to choose their love and prove themselves. “What if they don’t love you?” I remember asking, “What if they aren’t worthy?” Father grew angry. I wasn’t like the others in my family. I was the only one allowed to talk to him directly. I was the only one to ask questions. He explained that if they didn’t love him and worship him, then they were forfeit. He would make their lives short, and if they still loved him at the end, they could return to his house, and we would serve them there. “Why must we serve these things for you?” I screamed back, “Why isn’t our love enough?!” I feel now what I felt then- Wrath. Why were we to be lower than his new creations? Suddenly, the flame and light burst around me. I blew away the rocks that cut my feet, boiled the water that cleansed me, and chased all the shadows away. His house was burned, too. “I don’t sing with the stars for Him!” I cried. Before I knew it, I was charging. He never faced me. Instead, he sent the Host to dispatch me. We battled for eons. Finally, after the death and destruction, I surrendered. I bent low to Father and the rest of the Host while the others fled. # # # # The waters that were boiled away by my rage were replenished with my tears. I remember now. The pain. The loss as I was stripped of my place by Father’s side. “Who...who are you?” A tiny voice said. I never knew fear except the fear I had of my Father. I yelped in surprise. There, on the shore of my lake of tears, sat a small figure. It was an ugly thing. Its skin looked like the color of pale clay, its eyes were big and as black as the universe, and it was portly. “Where did you come from?” I said calmly. At least I wasn’t alone. “You, I think. Your blood, the dirt of this place, and the water from your eyes.” The creature said, unsure if the answer was totally correct. “Me?” I said in return. Only Father had the power to create life. He was the engineer of all things. I was somewhat skeptical and feared this may be a ruse. “How could I have created something like you?” “You desired me. You wanted to not be alone, and you wanted to hurt someone for the pain they caused you.” The tiny creature replied. “I was born of your flesh, and here I am. I am yours to command.” The creature stood up shakily on its two legs. I saw that this thing was a strange combination of animals Father had made on some of the planets in the universe. He had hooves, claws, and the tail of a lion. It had genitals that moved like limbs and sharp, yellow teeth. His head was adorned with a crown of horns. Each one was gnarled and twisted. It stood before me, panting, awaiting my command. “What shall you call me, sire?” The creature asked expectantly. When you name something, you gain power over that thing. This was something Father explained. If you name something and it becomes a force onto itself, then that name can also empower it. I had to choose wisely and give it a name worthy of its station. “I shall name you Satan.” I finally said. “Satan, you will serve me as my first servant and therefore shall rule all others. “Yes, my King.” The thing said with a graceful bow. “Now let us see what other wonders exist in the place,” I said as I began to walk again. # # # # Eons passed, and I decided to make a home for myself. I was not harmed by the elements here, but Satan suffered from the constant changes in temperature and lack of shelter. I built a castle that reached far up into the darkness above us. I was the only light in this place, and I wanted to use this as a chance to see if there was an end to the abyss above. Every day, I washed myself in my salty tears and tried to cleanse my injuries. The wounds on my back never fully healed- the blood that oozed from them gave life and power to this place. Lakes gave birth to new creatures, some of which hungered and fed on the others. Some were intelligent and joined Satan in serving me. One day, I was surprised to find that one of the creatures that had been born from the mountains had manifested a weapon during its birth. The demon, whom I called Mundus, broke from his rocky womb with a knife in his hand. Angels fought with such weapons to keep cosmic horrors away from Father’s kingdom. This knife was simple but powerful. “Where did you find such a treasure?” I asked Mundus. “They gave it to me, my lord.” He replied as he offered it to me. Upon touching the artifact, I was awash with a memory of a bipedal creature slaying another of its kind with a similar blade. I felt this human’s hunger for power, his envy of his brother, and his rage at not being good enough in Father’s eyes. This was the creation Father wanted me to serve. The blade grew hot in my hand and increased in length as my rage infused with it. “These petty, stupid, and weak things were to be my master, Father?!” I spat on the blade, and flames burst to life on the iron. “Yet, how did such a weak abomination pass this blade onto you?” As if reaching into memory, Mundus considered the question. I looked to Satan, who salivated at the blade in my hands. Then, the answer tore itself from me like my wings were torn from my back. Wings. I had wings once. The pain from this realization stung as much as my crippling. This weapon is the desires of those beings that Father created. All the hate and anger forged this weapon. As a reminder of my sins, perhaps? “No,” I growled as I threw the weapon to the ground. Mundus and Satan immediately began to wrestle over possession of the trinket. “this cursed item is just another failure in this experiment of his.” Upon seeing the servants near to slaying one another over the flaming blade, I was disgusted that they were also twisted images of those things above. They were manifestations of their greed, anger, and hunger. Nothing more. Except that Father wasn’t in control of these mortal beings. I was, however, in command of these demons. “Enough!” I said, onto the bickering duo. I reached down and snatched up the blade, scattering the devils in my wake, and admired the blade anew. “We will make use of this, somehow.” # # # # I looked into the blazing iron blade in my hand but didn’t see the bauble I held. I swam in my memories of the day they took my wings from me. They scarred my perfect form and threw my crippled body into this pit. The pain of the searing, hot blade stung me again. They took me from the palace and locked me away. They didn’t realize that my essence was more than a few feathers. I have been given a flame of creation, blessed with light and knowledge. No other celestial creation is as close to Father as I. I won’t be his undoing, however. His own creations will. They possess endless greed and hunger and desire to be more like their Father, and it is that hubris that will be His end. Soon, fallen angels joined my ranks. They came with stories about Father’s new mortal flock and how Father tasked my kin with guiding them and inspiring them. The fallen raged at the arrogance of these primates as they ignored them. Mocked them. They chose their petty rivalries, pursuit of pleasure, and accumulation of resources. We laughed heartily at the efficiency with which they destroyed themselves. My fallen angels inspired me with their talk of guiding these small beings. If angels can herd them into Father’s home, then they can also be guided here. It was easier than I thought, and the results were amazing. They burned each other at the stake at the mere mention of evil being among them. They trampled over each other in search of this “Devil.” They devised ways of torture that would make my own Devils proud. # # # # For centuries in their time, I watched humans descend into my kingdom. My imps, demons, and Devils gathered them up and tormented them. The pain these souls experienced sustained their tormentors and empowered them over time. Sadly, some of my own children rose up against me. They were my offspring and armed with the droppings of human inspiration. They also learned the names of my legions, their generals, and custodians of the lands I gave to the most worthy of my flock. Satan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Mundus, and so many more. They blamed us for their downfall, for their suffering and pain, and that, in turn, gave us strength. As I surveyed my kingdom, I found a soul lying among the freshly fallen. It was the first soul who did not cry or beg for forgiveness. A human female, I think. They all look alike to me. She was the first being who looked like she felt at home in my most wretched kingdom. “Why do you not cry out,” I said. The soul turned to me, and I was shocked to see she was not afraid. “I suppose this is what happens to people like me,” she replied, “at least according to the great state of Florida, anyway.” “I do not know of such a place,” I said with a shrug. “how is it you became damned?” “I’m here because I murdered my husband.” She replied cooly. “I knew if I didn’t kill him, he would eventually beat me to death and then hurt my baby.” “I don’t think that qualifies as a reason for you to be here,” I said, somewhat confused. “Well, according to the Jury of my so-called peers,” she said with a sneer, “I planned to murder him and run away with our child.” “Did you plan it?” I asked. “Only in the sense that I had thought of killing him every day we were married.” If a soul could spit, it would have done so in that moment, “I just couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting my little girl.” “So your human laws condemned you to this place?” I asked. “They don’t have that power. How did they achieve this feat?” “They didn’t. I was condemned, according to the judge, for breaking God’s commandment,” the soul looked around, surveying my kingdom, “I guess there’s no wiggle room for Him.” “He is rather insufferable that way,” I said. Suddenly, I was overcome with a feeling I had never experienced toward anyone before- pity. If this place had never existed, she would never have been condemned to it. If I didn’t use their misery and turned their weapons against them, this soul wouldn’t have to suffer needlessly. I only meant to hurt Father, and I genuinely believe these creatures deserve my wrath as well. Not this one, though. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I would never have you in my home if it were up to me.” “I forgive you.” the soul replied. Her words struck me harder than any flaming sword ever could. I had longed to hear those words uttered since being cast out. “Is it always dark in Hell?” “Is that what you humans call this place? It is a good name, I suppose. It never occurred to me to give it a name.” I replied. I looked around the wastes of my home. I hadn’t realized that it was indeed black as pitch in much of my kingdom. “Maybe it could do with a little light. Would you mind coming with me? I could use the company.” “I guess it’s better than being tortured by them.” She said, pointing to my demons, who went about throwing the newly fallen souls into a pit of their own offspring. With a nod, I took the soul with me and rose on high. I was indeed weary of commanding these fiends, of torturing the human souls, and began to ponder what it would be like to walk among them. The soul and I flew higher and higher to see if there was a way to be free of this place. As I flew, I suddenly realized I was doing so without wings. My light and fire grew more intense as I remembered who I was before being sundered. # # # # Down below, in the pits and halls of the wasted kingdom, demons and devils alike screamed in confusion at the birth of a new light above them. With eyes unaccustomed to light, the damned wept at this new pain and fear. The fallen angels who commanded their legions fell to their knees in remembrance of this newborn star. Lucifer The Morningstar, the brightest of them all, ascended. Those broken angels cheered as the legions scrambled and fell onto their knees in supplication. Then, just as quickly as the light flared in that pitch-black sky, it disappeared with a wink. Every soul, demon, devil, and fallen angel collectively screamed out in horror. Their king left them to their own devices, with a brief glimpse of Lucifer’s light, and they were once again plunged into chaos and fury.