In the beginning, there was nothing. Earth was incomplete, a vast canvas. Empty. Until God created The Archangels. And He loved them, his Angels. He made them so perfect, so beautiful, and so obedient. They were His perfect creation.
Michael, the strong one. The first. Micheal was made in God’s likeness. He was given great strength, and courage. After the creation of Humanity, he was given the ability to ease the fear and doubt that Humanity struggled with.
Raphael came next. He was blessed with the ability to heal. He was known to help all creatures of God, but it became evident that after they were created, his favorite creation was Man. He promoted better health amongst them, and aided in their physical and mental health, as well as their spiritual health.
After Raphael came Gabriel, and the first to be made after Humanity. Gabriel was God’s messenger. Anything He needed passed down, Gabriel passed along beautifully and without trouble. She was also known to help with fertility and childbirth.
Next, and last, was Samael. He was God’s most beautiful creation, and his favorite. He loved and trusted Samael very much. Very much so, that he made Samael the Accuser. He was to seek out and find sinners, and nonbelievers, and punish them as he saw fit. This was a great honor that God gifted Samael, and one that he did not take lightly. Samael, also known, after The Great Fall, as Lucifer.
After God created The ArchAngels, He realized that Heaven still was too empty, and if He was to have Angel’s, then his Angel’s needed their own roles- and others to lead. So, he created more. Secondary angels. They were soldiers. Soldiers, who were meant to follow the orders of the ArchAngels without question, or disobedience. None of the rest were as strong or brilliant as His first’s, but they were still His creation, and so He loved them as well.
And so, he deemed His firsts as The ArchAngels, and the leaders of Heaven. Each was given a role, and a garrison of Secondary’s - or Soldiers- to teach and to lead. After Raphael, God created Humanity, and oh how he fell in love with them. His little humans, they adored and loved Him with all of their might. They fought wars in His name. They named their young after His ArchAngels. They read His word, and most of them lived by it.
But, how fun would it be if God gave them the gift of Free Will? They’d think for themselves, live for themselves, and choose whatever they wanted to believe, by themselves. As time went on, it became very apparent to God that Samael had fallen in love with Humanity. He didn’t punish them for their sins as he once did, and he’d even begun to question why God had done certain things.
He asked him, once, ‘Father, why make the Humans suffer? They are filled with diseases, and plaques- even the ones who are devoted to your word? Why allow them to murder each other, to kill and harm their offspring? They are innocent little things. They do not deserve the pain and suffering they are dealt!’
To say God was angry was an understatement. His wrath for Samael would be one of legends. He ordered Michael, His strongest, and Raphael, His healer, to tie Samael down flat on his belly. He commanded Micheal to forcibly unfurl Samael’s long, elegant, black wings. God watched what happened next with a twisted smile as Michael pushed a blade deep within Samael’s shoulder blades and cut out his wings from his skin. Raphael was to Samael's ear, shushing and running gentle fingers through Samael’s beautiful blond hair.
At first, Samael screamed and contorted in pain, but with Raphael’s healing whispers flooding Samael’s mind, the screams turned to eerie sobs. Michael steeled his face as he cleaned Samael’s angelic blood from his blade when he finished. It hurt him to hurt his brother in such a way. But, it hurt him more to know he questioned their Father.
Samael knew that God’s word was final. His decisions were for the greater good. Samael had no right to question Father. More so, Samael had no right to love the Humans more than Father. Those hairless apes would be nothing without Father. They’d still be tiny bacteria. Father gave them life. He gave them a purpose, and Free Will. The gift of life from Father was more than those worthless little ants deserved. Samael should have known that. He should have realized that sooner, and fallen in line faster. Father was their one and only true love.
Michael didn’t feel bad for Samael. His brother’s punishment was fitting, in his eyes. And so, Samael was cast from Heaven and into the fiery pits of Hell. Micheal was the one to throw him out, as all of the siblings watched. Gabriel, Samael’s closest sibling, had tears in her big, and beautiful hazel eyes. Samael almost felt sorry for her, for having to watch. Raphael almost looked relieved. He was never really close with Samael, and for some reason he took pleasure in Samael’s soon-to-be absence. And, when he looked up and into his older brother’s blue eyes, they somehow sparkled with glee. He knew his brother never liked him. Samael knew Michael couldn’t stand how much he loved Humanity, and now, Michael was going to be rid of him.
It hurt Samael to know his brothers never truly cared for him, and he vowed that one day, he’d make them pay for what they’ve done to him. They’ve mangled him! His wings were ripped from his body, and he was left with angry and deep red scars. Yes, he’d make them pay. All of them. The Soldiers who looked on without concern, and his siblings were all going to pay. All of them but Gabriel. She was too pure and loved Samael too much for him to hurt her. He loved her, his beautiful sister. She was always by his side, and even stuck up for him when she could. He’d never blame her for this. When Samael looked up to God from his kneeling position, he had a disgusted look on his face. He was disappointed in Samael, but for some reason the fallen angel didn’t care.
He smiled into his Father’s eyes, and spoke. ‘This is the day I fall from Heaven. You’ve ripped my wings from me, and along with them my love for you. You’re a monstrous Father, and a worse God. Humanity will turn against you. I will be there for them, when they do, and I will show them the light. They will call me Lucifer, and one day, they will love me.’ He groaned as Micheal kicked him in his ribs, and again when he punched him in the nose, but his groans gave way to laughter as blood trickled down his face. He smiled through the blood, and turned his attention to the Soldiers. ‘Know me, Soldiers. Remember my face, and remember this day. One day, I’ll return, and I’ll slaughter each and every one of you.’ His eyes turned a brilliant, fiery red, and he stood from his kneeling position. Michael moved to grab at him, but he stopped when Father put his hand up. ’Leave him, my son. He has lost his family and he will burn in Hell for his sins soon enough.’
And with that, God snapped his fingers and sent Samael -Lucifer- hurtling toward Hell. Lucifer, Satan, Mephistopheles, Iblis. Over the years, Humanity gave Lucifer many names in their little books. They call him evil, a traitor of Heaven and God. They call him a demon. They name him, as if they know him. As if they know of his power, of his strength. Humanity has portrayed Samael in many different ways, with many different faces. Some mock him. Some pray to him. Some pray for him. Some worship him, and others are terrified of him. Yes, he’s watched Humanity all of those years. Samael was never idle in his place in Hell. He rose up. He became the Lord of those horrible demons down below. And, his time in Hell was almost up. Humanity knows nothing of Samael, but soon they will. Soon, they’ll know exactly what kind of angel he can be.
October 9, 1645
Night was approaching, and quickly. The sky had begun to turn a pleasant shade of purple as the sun set, but Cordelia didn’t have the time to admire its beauty. She was already late for supper, and her mother was sure to be angry.
She hurried down a hidden forest path, and quickly tucked a beaten old book under her smock. She patted down her worn out clothing, hoping her book was hidden enough. Mother and Father would have her head if they caught her reading. Especially what she was reading.
Emerging through the thick forest, she made her way down the cobbled path, past the village, and to the outskirts where her humble cottage stood. Her home was nothing the other girls in her town could be jealous of, but it was nice enough for Cordelia. It was cozy, and warm, and when mother cooked, the whole cottage smelled absolutely amazing. It kept the cold out, and that would always be enough for the Cawthorne’s.
Cordelia slowly entered her home, careful not to alert her mother to her arrival. Once she was inside, she made her way into her tiny bedroom, and tucked her book under her shabby straw mattress for its safety, before she took in a deep breath and went to find her mother.
In their small eating room, Cordelia found her mother standing over a small fire, and mixing something in a rather large pot. Behind her, she cleared her throat. “Mother,” she began hesitantly. The older woman turned to her, then, startled by the sudden noise. “Oh! ‘Delia, you frightened me!” Her mother tossed a hand to her chest, then stared at her expectantly once she recognized her daughter. “Now where have you been, young lady?” Cordelia’s eyes sank down, becoming suddenly interested in the floor, and she swallowed as her throat became dry. “Just outside with a few girls from school.” She spoke cooly, not looking up. Her mother let out a sigh at this, and Cordelia took a glance up as the older woman shook her head. “Delia, you’re almost sixteen.. it’s not proper for you to still be playing.” Her mother turned back to the fire then, and clicked her tongue as she shook her head.
“You’re a woman now, dear. It’s time you start to act like it!” Cordelia huffed at that, and turned to set the table. “And what do you mean by that, Mother?” She could hear her mother begin to speak but continued on. “You mean find a husband. Settle down, and pop out a few babes, and do nothing but housework for the rest of my life!” She turned to her mother then, who was now staring at her with hard eyes. “I don’t want that life, Mother. That’s not who I am!” Cordelia’s voice cracked just a bit at the end of her little rant, and her mothers eyes softened slightly.
“And what’s wrong with that life, ‘Delia? That’s my life, that was your grandmother's life, and her mothers life as well,” her mother steadily walked over to her as she spoke, and took her hands in hers. “I know it’s not the most spectacular life, dear, but there’s nothing more rewarding than raising a few babes into important people.” Her mother smiled gently, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled.
At just fourty four, Mrs. Cawthrone was still an attractive woman. A bit pudgy, with rosy cheeks. Her hair was a brilliant shade of chestnut brown, with a few strands of grey sprinkled through. Her eyes were still as bright as Cordelia could remember from childhood, and still a warm color of golden honey with flecks of green. She had a nice heart shaped face, with a wide mouth and full lips. Her nose, though it was prominent, wasn’t too big, and was pointed slightly upwards. She had a small forehead, and her eyes were just a bit too large for her face. Cordelia thought her mother was very pretty indeed.
Cordelia almost rolled her eyes at being reminded of her older siblings. Her older sister, Mary Elizabeth, married a preacher four years earlier, and Mother couldn’t be more proud of her eldest daughter. She lived the proper life, after all. She even had a babe of her own, now. A little boy she called Amos who looked suspiciously like her sister's groundskeeper, but Cordelia kept that thought to herself.
And, before Mary Elizabeth, there was Thaddeus. He turned twenty three last summer, and had already secured himself a place in the world as the intolerant Judge Thaddeus Cawthorne, and he didn’t let anyone in the village forget who he was.
He married a very pretty girl from their home a few years ago, who had just turned fifteen. They have two children with one on the way now, and for some reason that made Cordelia shudder in disgust. She was just a year older than her aunt Esther when she married her brother, and Cordelia couldn’t begin to imagine being a married woman at her own age.
Staring up at her mother, Cordelia sighed. Her body sagged as she sat at the dining table. “I don’t want to get married right now, mother. I just don’t. I just..” her mother tsked and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Marriage isn’t a terrible thing, ‘Delia. Just give it a bit more thought, alright? You’ll come around, eventually. You already have a line of suitors. In fact, a couple of good, proper, men came knocking at the door for you while you were out there playing.” Her mothers eyes twinkled with something Cordelia didn’t recognize before she turned back to the fire. Cordelia’s own eyes widened in disbelief. “Who, Mother? What proper men?” She snapped her mouth shut as her mother turned to her again, the twinkle replaced with something stern.“The Wulfric brothers.”
Her stomach dropped at the name, so fast that she thought she’d be sick. Her face paled and she shook her head. “No, Mother! Not them. They’re terrible! You heard what they did to the Nyah girl!” Her mothers face turned harder than stone as she stared back at her daughter. “Those are rumors, Cordelia!” Her mother practically hissed. “That Nyah girl tells all sorts of lies, and you’d do best not to listen to her. The whole Nyah family is awful! Nothing but liars and pigs!” She spat at the ground after speaking of them, and Cordelia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She shook her head anyway, and sighed. “Mother, I don’t want to marry either of the Wulfric brothers. Rumors or not, they’re horrible.” She said the last bit quietly, and lowered her head.
She felt her mothers now icy gaze on her. “Davaesh and Dorek are good lads, Delia. They’ve helped your father in the field countless times, and even helped me on occasion. While you were off gods know where, doing gods know what.” She gave her a pointed look. “I’m done with this conversation, Cordelia. Go wash up for dinner!”
Cordelia snapped her mouth shut at that, and turned to march into her room. Once alone in the privacy of her small bedroom the youngest Cawthorne sank down on her bed and closed her eyes. A shaky breath escaped her small but plump lips, and before she knew it, she was crying silent tears. She was still a child for God’s sake! Why should she have to marry anyone, especially the Wulfric brothers!?
If the rumors were true, they were rapists. Disgusting, terrible men, and her mother was so bewitched by their charms she was seriously considering marrying her off to one of them!
Her chest heaved as she sobbed into her hands. She rolled over onto her stomach to bury her face into her pillow, when something stuck her from under her mattress. Her mouth turned downward as she ran her hand over the bump, then was reminded of her book.
The threat of marrying one of the Wulfric brothers was forgotten as she slipped off of her bed to dig out the ratted old book. She smiled softly as she gently opened it to the page she left off, and traced her delicate fingers over the faded words.
There are many reasons to call upon the Lord of Hell. The most prominent, being greed. Other, lesser reasons include jealousy, anger, and fear. Whatever the reason, it should be noted that the reader must proceed in the text with caution. The Lord of Hell is an immensely powerful being, and if done correctly, the spell below will bind him to the witch/warlock who calls upon him. If done incorrectly, His Grace will show himself, only to curse the witch/warlock who chose to call upon him with reckless abandon. No matter the curse, death will take said witch/warlock. It would only be a matter of time. Please, dear witch/warlock, use caution with this spell. It is for advanced witches and warlocks only, and must be done with extreme caution and a clear goal in mind.
Cordelia sucked in a shaky breath as she read the passage, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Was she really going to attempt that spell? It was a question she’d asked herself over and over, but she’d come to realize that her time of being just a child was running out. Soon, her mother and father would marry her off to anyone who paid the right price, and she’d be nothing more than a slave to her new husband.
A shudder wrecked through her body at the thought, and she snapped the book closed. Was her reasoning even good enough? Why would His Grace even want to help a pitiful girl like herself, anyway? She’d probably be cursed with madness, and be locked away in a cell until she died. Or he’d take pity on her and murder her on the spot. Though, she thinks she’d much prefer that over a terribly mundane life of a housewife and mother.
A shaky breath escaped her as she replaced the old book under her mattress, and crawled back into bed. She fell asleep shortly after, to thoughts of an angel helping her escape her boring life.