“Come, my sons. Come,” The Morning Star called to his sons, the lesser angels who must learn the music. “Come. Come quickly to the magic. Come quickly.”
The Morning Star played his Lyer fashioned with gold and silver. He played as his gold wings fluttered. With his fingers playing his instrument, he summoned a state of madness within his sons, the lesser angels. He played as his lips dripped with death. His eyes were on the brink of insanity; he looked about him as his sons watched him. Their minds drifted into unconsciousness while death merged with the Morning Star. The light given to the angels left them and gathered before the Morning Star as he absorbed their light into himself. He took their worship. And madness, madness was in heaven for that moment. The lesser angels screamed and plucked their feathers; they scratched their skin and moaned as the Morning Star’s magic controlled them. Their bodies twisted into abominations and unnatural things. Their hands reached into a void of despair as the magic twisted around their hands and feet.
The Morning Star’s golden eyes turned bright as ecstasy snatched his heart into a craze from the lesser angels’ gift of worship from his magic. He was a thief; he had now taken the form of manipulation and death. He loved destruction and delirium. The light, the brightest star in heaven, had now dimmed into the mark of death. He violently played his instrument until his fingers bled black onto the strings he pulled and twisted with his magic. He smiled, but his eyes did not. He lusted; he desired more and more, causing the angels to harm themselves in their worship. As the Morning Star put his whole body into his movement, the strings snapped, breaking the minds of the angels, and they fell to the ground as though they were dead.
He realized his power, his power to control. He had the power to break things and steal beauty. He stood up and watched his sons twist in pain by the darkness. Evil smiled upon the Morning Star while his golden eyes plotted against the residence of heaven and their King.
“Lucifer!” A voice called to him, “Lucifer!”
Startled, he turned to the voice of one of his brothers, Gabriel. He became nervous, “Brother…”
“What is this?” Gabriel knelt to the lesser angels who appeared dead, “What is this?” He put his hand on them to discern their spirit, “Explain to me, brother, what is this?” He looked up at the Morning Star with grief, “This is madness; what have you done?”
Lucifer shouted, “I set them free! Free to choose. They are free to love. Free to desire. Free to destroy. I set them free from the liar who fashioned our spirits. They now embrace death and madness. Everyone needs a little madness in their minds, isn’t that right, brother? Aren’t we all a little mad?”
The insanity tried to pierce Gabriel’s mind like one thousand echoes as he held his head crying out, “NO! NO!” Gabriel pushed Lucifer’s control out of his mind. Gabriel grieved for his brother as a tear left his right eye, slowly moving down his cheek. In deep emotion from his spirit, he asked, “You have touched something dangerous. What did you touch?”
Lucifer turned his head away with a cold hate for his brother. Gabriel screamed at his brother as his voice cracked, “Tell me! What did you do to them?” Thick tears fell from his eyes and over his lips.
The Morning Star’s golden eyes finally turned to Gabriel, and with a malicious smile, he answered, “Well, brother, I found something…deep in darkness…”