Dufaii - The Patron Saints of the Damned Book I

Sleeping and then awakening, the gods developed a taste they’d never had before. A taste for souls. At first, this drove them to war and other machinations of evil. Consuming their own offspring, assassinating one another, developing magics to try to separate the shard of the divine from the husks of one another’s soul. On a surface level, they wanted chunks of regained energy and life that, thus far, had only come trickling in through the mortals who pledged their souls to them.

When over and over the absorption of other gods did not work, the gods set their sights on the only option available to them—their followers. They became like addicts with varying degrees of success. Those gods who were driven most by their thirst massacred their followers ritualistically, making such sacrifices part of their prescribed worship. Gods who were able to control their impulses faired far better—gradually growing the number of their followers as in investment in the future. As it didn’t matter whether the mortals died at the altar or elderly in their homes. Of course … the longer a god waited, the higher the chance for conversion of their mortal followers.

Most successful were the gods who figured things out early, who staved off their sleep—sometimes indefinitely—through the trickling addition of followers. Their minds were sharper too, so they were able to focus on spreading the custom of their cults and religions further than the gods who had already gone mad. The result, unfortunately, was that gods who did not go mad were now justified in their paranoia and thirst for power. Marking them, functionally, just smart equivalents to their maddened brethren.

-another excerpt of “Of Killing Gods, Methodology and Theory” by Dufaii the Godkiller.

-O-

Dufaii rested in a meeting chamber within the Holy of Holies. The room around him was white, adorned with light pink trimmings. There were four slabs of stone with padding on their tops, the furniture meant for sitting. He himself was seated on a wooden stool that had been brought in for him. The Archangels Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel sat upon three of the stools. Michael’s wing and arm were bandaged close to his body so that he could not use them. The last stool was taken by a female angel whose skin was brown, entirely tattooed with elegantly patterned golden vines. Her wings were a vibrant pattern of various greens. Her aura was … unexpectedly strong, almost as robust as the three Archangels put together. It was noticeable even through the gentle thrum of overwhelming thrum of power coming from the sleeping Creator in the chamber below.

In this angel’s hand was a shepherd’s crook. By her aura and the item that she carried, Dufaii knew that she was latest physical manifestation of the Lightbringer–the most powerful of the angels and the guardian of their realm. She was known for changing her outward appearance often, always taking extravagant forms and swapping between gender presentations.

Dufaii had just finished telling his account of everything that had happened in the cave. The Archangels listened intently, radiating somewhat anxious energies that they were mostly successful in keeping at bay.

The Archangel Gabriel, bald and dark-skinned with black wings and orange robes looked at Raphael and the Lightbringer. “May I tell him?”

“I think it best that Hades explain, since she saw it,” said the Lightbringer.

Raphael nodded and stood to open the rose-tinted wooden door that was the only entrance. She looked out the door and beckoned someone. She then returned to her seat, leaving the door open.

An angel entered who Dufaii recognized, though he did not know her well. She was more mature than most others, in her adolescence as he was. She was tall and slender, in a way that could have been intimidating in a way that was oddly similar to Michael’s imposing build.

Dufaii found he … liked that about her. She wore orange robes like those of Gabriel, a trend among angels who tended to the Creator and the Holy of Holies.

“Hades, this is Dufaii,” said the Archangel Gabriel. “He and the Archangel Michael were attacked by a lesser god.”

Hades raised her eyebrows in surprise and inspected their injuries more closely.

“Would you tell them what you saw today?” Gabriel asked.

Hades nodded and said, “I was in the dwelling place of the Creator, making my daily rounds and watching to see if anything had changed in their condition. As I was watching them, something silver passed through the floor and merged with the Creator before I had time to react. At first, nothing happened. Then, the Creator stirred.”

Michael’s eyes widened intensely. “They have woken?”

Hades shook her head. “They only stirred. But this is the first time that they have done something like this since they slept.”

Michael placed his less injured hand on his forehead. He began to grind his teeth, clearly thinking a mile a minute.

Raphael nodded. “If what you both saw, Dufaii and Hades, was what we imagine, our best guess is that the Creator reabsorbed the soul of the elder god. The Creator’s stirring may indicate that the elder god’s soul added to their power and hopefully helping them wake.”

Neither Hades nor Michael responded to this news. Dufaii did not know what to say or how to handle it, either. The Lightbringer, Gabriel, and Raphael looked only slightly more settled with this revelation. Nobody looked joyous as part of Dufaii felt he should have at this news. Something wasn’t sitting right for him, and he guessed by their troubled looks and muddled auras that it was the same for the Archangels, the Lightbringer, and Hades.

Finally, it was Gabriel who gave voice to all of their concerns. “I am troubled by Dufaii’s account of Abzu. This is the first god we know of to have woke first-hand.”

“It’s too early to have a founded fear that something like this madness will befall the Creator,” Raphael replied, keeping a suddenly tighter guard over her thoughts and her aura. “I don’t want the other angels to be unduly stressed over fears that are not yet justifiable. So, if I can get the agreement of my fellow Archangels and the Lightbringer, I would formally ask that you two do not speak to them about what you saw.”

Michael and Gabriel were silent for a moment, but the Lightbringer lifted her index finger. “I do not like the idea of keeping information from our brethren. We four were appointed as protectors and nurturers for them. I caution you that keeping information from them is an act that veers us into the territory of authoritarianism.”

“Precisely,” Raphael said. “We’ve learned by watching the gods and the immortals that good parents do not burden their families with potential stressors which can only cause detriment. Especially when we do not yet know if the stressors are based on justified fears. At the very least, we need to deliberate more on the if, how, and when so that we can tell them in an organized fashion.”

“I do not support this motion,” said the Lightbringer.

“We should … at least take the time to think about it,” Gabriel said, casting his vote with Raphael.

“There is no way that the Creator could become like that monster,” Michael said, bringing an unsettling silence to the room. He looked around at them all. “That’s what you all are wondering, I won’t dance around the issue. The Creator is not capable of that kind of idiocy or savagery. We don’t need to even let that become an idea in the minds of the younger angels. It’s simply not possible.”

“Well said,” Raphael said. “Though I will still insist that we formally investigate this incident and monitor the Creator closely for their sake and safety. So, the matter is decided for now. Can we trust you, Dufaii and Hades, to keep this matter a secret until we are ready to share a full and investigated report?”

Dufaii looked at Hades and then they both gave small nods. It wasn’t as if there was much of a choice … but, honestly, it wasn’t as if he had anyone he could tell about any of it anyways. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like he agreed with the Lightbringer.

“Thank you, we should now-” Raphael stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes went wide, and it seemed that her words were caught in her throat.

Dufaii was confused for only an instant before he felt it too. All the muscles in his body tightened. His hairs and feathers all began to curl.

There was a low crackle that resonated deep within the Holy of Holies. Then came a deafening boom as the ceiling cracked open, revealing a dark sky and blinding orange light. It was … lightning.

Dufaii suddenly felt as if he were being fractured and torn from the inside out. The bones in his skull cracked audibly, creating a pressure that blinded him to everything else.

From the depths of the Holy of Holies then came a terrible scream. The power of it seemed to fuel the orange light enveloping Dufaii. All of his bones began to twist until they were fractured into tiny fragments. Then, the power passed through and impacted his insides. Every organ felt as if someone had pinched the pieces between their fingers and was slowly tearing.

“You were supposed to prepare,” boomed the thundering voice from below. “All I did and all I suffered to create you. Now, you all meander around like irresponsible children! Death is coming. War is coming. You and everything I’ve sacrificed for will die to the madness of the gods. Because of your laziness, your apathy!”

Dufaii tried to cry out a million apologies. However, his pain outmatched his terror. He could only convulse as the orange lightning ravaged his body.

He was on barely aware of the Archangels and Lightbringer on the floor writhing around him—only enough to take in the terror of the sight of the most powerful beings he had ever known reduced to victims of this torment.

Raphael was grasping at the feathers in her wings—almost as if she were hugging herself, at first. But then she brought her hands forward to reveal that they were full of her own bloodied feathers that she continued to rip out by the handful.

Michael knelt and roared … almost defiantly … before beginning to bash his skull against the stone corner of the pillar he had sat on. He did not stop until gold puddled at his knees, chunks of bone and brain plopped within, and his body went limp.

Gabriel bared his teeth as he wept loud enough to be a scream. One my one his teeth began to pop and crack from the pressure he clenched with. Blood poured from the corners of his mouth.

The Lightbringer tried to stand … managing to prop herself against her stool while doubled over. Without sound she mouthed the words, “You …. are not…” Whatever else she said was lost as her legs buckled beneath her and her words became indiscernible screams.

On and on it went, until right before Dufaii’s mind could shatter entirely from the pain. Only then did it let up. Then, he was left broken, shattered, blind, with his ears ringing. He did not even have the power to tremble from the terror that now consumed him.

-O-

“We Archangels found ourselves quickly taking the roles of teachers and leaders to our kind. After the Creator was finished with their task of creating us all, they were taken by a long sleep that lasted millennia.

When the Creator awakened, everything changed. They woke as a colossus and told us that we were to prepare for war against the gods, who would inevitably seek to take their power. The command came embodied as a thunderous cloud of the Creator’s wrath. It filled every corner of Heaven, and its lightning spared none.

Raphael, Michael, and I set immediately about enforcing the Creator’s commands, perhaps too quickly … perhaps before our brethren were ready. I can’t help but wonder if their actions could have been deterred. Had leadership not been thrust immediately upon our shoulders … and we had empathized with what it felt like to be scared children ourselves.

-from “Reminiscences of the Fall” by the Archangel Gabriel