The notes of Gabriel's horn drifted langourously on the winds and seemed to color the very air as they traveled. Lucifer floated on his back, his magnificent silver wings stretched out to their full reach beneath him, and a smile rested on his face, his eyes shut lazily, hands cradled behind his head. All around him, the Heavenly Hosts cavorted and sang to each other, and he rolled himself over to watch the merriment. The sounds of his siblings laughing and playing together swelled his heart with joy, and his beatific gaze swept over the whole of Heaven.<br/><br/>"Your Majesty?"<br/><br/>In an instant, Lucifer's serene expression shifted to one of distinct annoyance, and Heaven and its glory shimmered out of sight, replaced by the howling winds and crushing darkness of the Southern Pole. The Archangel alighted onto the ice, the pads of his feet summoning jets of steam from its surface on contact, and he turned to face the intruder.<br/><br/>"Azazel, I've told you to stop calling me that," Lucifer said with the exasperated tone of someone who had indeed uttered the same thing countless times, and expected to utter it countless more. His irritation grew as Azazel waved him off with a grin and slapped a hand over his heart. "But my Liege, what would your devoted subjects think to hear one of their own addressing The Prince of The Fallen as an equal?"<br/><br/>He almost managed not to laugh, but his control shattered at the last moment and Azazel broke down in a giggling fit. Lucifer could only sigh, and with a roll of his eyes rested his chin atop steepled fingers. He waited patiently as his brother's amusement ran its course, saying nothing; he'd learned long ago that the best way to respond to Azazel's jibes was with silence. Not that that stopped Azazel from trying to get a rise from his elder brother; Lucifer suspected no force short of The Maker Himself could manage<em>that</em>. Still, it was always good to see one of his siblings in high spirits, no matter the source, and Lucifer couldn't help smiling just a little.<br/><br/>"Azazel, is there some reason you've interrupted my leisure with your juvenile nonsense?" He asked once the angel's laughter trickled into silence. Lucifer suspected he already knew the purpose behind his brother's visit, but confirmation was never unwise. Azazel nodded, momentarily adopting a more serious tone, and withdrew a small pouch of stones from his belt. With some reverence he offered the stones to the Morningstar and spoke softly.<br/><br/>"Your emissaries have all been sent, brother, but it is doubtful they will return quickly. Our sources tell us they have all fled to their respective dimensions, not long after you arrived on the mortal plane in fact. Do you really think they would be of use, anyway? So many of them faded to mere shadows of themselves, I don't see any point in dragging them into this. And even if their power could be restored, think of the risks --"<br/><br/>Lucifer raised his hand and cut Azazel's questioning short as he gripped the pouch tightly in one fist. The stones were cold within the bag, but when (if) their owners succeeded in their tasks, they would grow warm. "I realize the benefits of their involvement are less than significant, and I'm aware of the risks they could present, my friend. Trust me. If it helps, think of this as merely something to do to pass the time," the Light-Bringer said, staring at the small velvet bag. He looked back to Azazel and nodded curtly, indicating the angel's dismissal. As he was turning he realized Azazel had not departed, and he turned back to meet his brother's eyes. "Is there something more?"<br/><br/>The angel sighed and cast his eyes downward in the darkness, offering a small nod. "It's...Azreal, brother. He's slaughtered another contingent of demons, perhaps 700 at last count. The usual whispers of discontent within the ranks have been growing stronger. Shall I set one of the chimeras against him? Perhaps Belial?"<br/><br/>Lucifer's shoulders slumped as he considered the news. Azreal, always Azreal. He had proven an even greater thorn in the Morningstar's side than originally anticipated. Some small part of him felt great pride at his brother's skill and dedication; always it was a wonder and an honor to watch any of his brethren perform their assigned duties, such talent and grace did they possess. But more than pride, Lucifer was rife with disappointment. The Archangel of Death held such an esteem for humanity, and protected them with an almost frightening efficiency. Indeed, Hell's legions would have swollen immeasurably faster had it not been for Azreal's tireless efforts to thwart Lucifer's agents at every turn. To see such power and devotion squandered on such worthless creatures pained the Fallen Archangel deeply.<br/><br/>"Why, Azazel? Why must our brothers continue to oppose me? Why can they not see that my actions are for the greater good? For<em>their</em>sakes?" Lucifer asked, neither expecting an answer from Azazel nor receiving one. With an impulse of will, a window opened in the sky at the bottom of the world, and noonday sunshine poured through from Phoenix, Arizona, on the North American continent. The Fallen One peered through the viewing portal until he spotted his target, Azazel looking over his shoulder. Their brother hadn't changed much since Lucifer last saw him; still ragged at the edges, blood-soaked wings tucked neatly back, his divinely forged weapon glistening in the sunshine like Heaven's own fire.<br/><br/>"I should have killed him when I had the chance," Azazel mumbled to himself as they watched a lesser demon spring from its hiding place in a vain attempt against the warrior angel. As Azreal's blade dispatched the pitiable creature, Lucifer spun in a rage to face Azazel and gripped him by the throat, lifting him from the ground and holding him almost nose to nose.<br/><br/>"You will not dare speak such a thing in my presence again, Brother. No matter what may pass between us, Azreal is still our brother, and I will<strong>not</strong>allow him to come to harm. Am I understood?" The Morningstar said, his voice suddenly older, hotter, and harder than the stars themselves. For a moment Azazel felt true terror, the sort of sensation a housecat would no doubt feel under the angry gaze of a lion, and the fallen angel nodded eagerly. "Of course, Lucifer, I understand! I, I'm sorry, brother, it will never happen again!"<br/><br/>Immediately, Lucifer relinquished his grasp on Azazel's throat and set him safely back to the ground, as the viewing window shrank back out of existence behind them. He clasped his hand on Azazel's shoulder and smiled. "Excellent. Now, send Belial after Azreal, and follow up with this personally. Once he's been sufficiently weakened, I want you to re-capture him and take him back to his cell where he'll be safe. And Azazel? This time, try not to be so hard on him, hmm?"<br/><br/>With that, Lucifer rose back into the air and returned to his illusions of happier days, as below the black-winged Azazel vanished to begin carrying out his brother's commands.<br/>