Chapter 15 (Part One - Before The Banishment)

Moebius walked back into her living quarters to find the four demons remaining still on edge.  Satan uncharacteristically was pacing with a wrought anxiety that looked almost comical on a figure as enormous as his.  Lucifer was running his finegrs through his sleek black hair.  Beelzebub and abaddon were silently staring at the table at which they were seated.

"He will return friends don't worry."  Moebius moved to join them at her oval table.  Satan stopped pacing and sat down beside her.

"So what now Moebius?"  Beelzebub broke the stony silence.

"Two things must happen.  Firstly it must be one of you here that must arrest Belial, preferrably all of you.  Otherwise you will not get to the trial, and it is important that you all attend you understand.  The second thing to do is prepare yourselves.  There is much you will need to do.  Something eludes you all, you must consider what it is you must do to end this war now.  Belial still has much to do, as do you all."  Moebius leant her grossly large frame backwards against her wooden chair, so much so that Lucifer nearly pealed with laughter at the thought of the chair exploding benath her in a final destructive protest.

"No more riddles Moebius, can you not be straight with us for once."  Satan growled.  "What is it exactly that we must do?"

Moebius seemed to ignore this command and she looked directly at Beelzebub.  "As the tactician amongst you there is something you have always craved isn't there Beelzebub.  Something you must all look to now.  If not, there are scrolls behind me to peruse at your leisure.  Though it probably can wait a little while."

Beelzebub shook his head incomprehensively.  "You mean the prophecy?"

"No I do not mean the prophecy, surely you know it all by heart by now?"  Moebius' shook her greasy curls irritably.

Abaddon stood up and walked to the bookcase and brought to the table the book containing titivillus' accounts of all conversations with the long dead seer.  "Maybe you should read it to us now Moebius.  Maybe we could all use a little focus."  Abaddon passed the yellow paged book over the table to her.

It always amazed Moebius how such an innocent book, small, bound in red leather, could hold so much importance to so many people.  

"This is no importance to all of us, Beelzebub has already faced his doom and came victorious.  Not that it is so of Astaroth and Baal."  She shook her head regretfully, listening to the angry murmur of her companions.  "Do you wish to hear it truly?"

"Just read our five prophecies, it is time we paid them some proper heed surely if the war is nearing it's conclusion as you say."  Abaddon spoke softly and without warning, a hint of a plea to his voice.  He could never read the prophecies himself, he could only hearit spoken by others, a kind of separation from the contents.

The other demons nodded consent, so Moebius began.

"Toward the light Thomas will step, and toward the Dark so shall Beelzebub falter.  The consequence of this unethical limbo will resound the bell for one or the other.  The reapers call will be imminent."

Beelzebub had never understood the words until the day that he had slain Archangel Thomas when countering an attack a year before the quarrel of Limbo had ensued.  Beelzebub had been on a rescue mission to save his mother, ironically it was his father that had wielded the sword that Beelzebub faced.  Archangel hadn't greeted him like a son, instead he stepped into the light in the cell where his mother was kept and attacked him.

"At the doorway to so many more doorways will Raziel and Abaddon meet in the company of friends and strangers.  The underdog will prevail against the odds, no matter how many opposing brothers intervene."

Abaddon mouthed the words with her, not once looking up.  There was never any clarity in those words, and without clarity there would be no comfort, but still he detached himself from the prophecised Abaddon, he was still hearing the fate of another in his mind.

"Satan and Jehova will engage in the final battle, and though victorious the spoils will not be granted solely to this victory."

It was simple and short, almost blaze in it's approach, but the words still rang the bell of destiny deep in the crevasse of Satan's mind.  He would see the end of the war, for good or ill, even if he may not survive it.

"Of Lucifer and Michael I will say naught but to toast the luck of the victor, and the intellect of the one who falls."

Lucifer was the most frightened by his destiny of all the fallen.  He could never get to grips with the accepting approach Belial had portrayed everytime the Prophecies were read.

"And of Belial and Gabriel.  Death is never so simple, as both will find out in due course of battle, the one who meets there demise will have a cataclysmic effect on the outcome of everything."

Belial wasn't here to react to his prophecy he was...
The End

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