He took another book and went to sit by the window. Both mine and Caro’s heads turned as we followed his every move.
He was such a contradiction of a man. His hair and skin looked as if they breathed in moonlight itself. Any woman who saw him would probably be jealous. Yet his demeanor carried a mix of elegance and that commanding presence unique to those born above others. It was hard to imagine how such opposite traits could coexist in the same person.
Just as I was about to drag Caro out with me, the guy suddenly bolted toward Lucifer like he’d injected energy drinks directly into his veins.
“Does Lord Lucifer come here often?”
“Occasionally.” Lucifer rested his chin lightly against the back of his hand, eyes half-lowered toward the page. He didn’t even bother to glance up.
Behind him stood a row of Thrones. I’d already come to see them as part of him.
Getting a response from Lucifer made Caro so excited he was sweating from the tip of his nose. “So if we start coming here often, does that mean we’ll get to see you again, Your Highness?”
Lucifer gave me a sidelong glance. “Yes.”
Caro was the type who’d ride whichever tiger looked meanest. It’s a brother’s duty to follow him into the fire. I forced myself to walk over, plastered on an awkward grin and flashed it at Lucifer.
Caro grabbed my hand and practically bounced in place. “My lord, you remember this guy, right? This is Isar, he’s kind of reckless. The other day he nearly offended you. I apologize on his behalf.”
“It’s fine.”
Lucifer’s hair glinted like golden silk, held in place by a snow pearl. His skin looked like fine porcelain. Not even a pore in sight. Not a single blemish. Honestly, he could even give Farthead a run for his money. Everything about him was perfect. Except the way he was staring at me. It raised all the hairs on my body.
Caro clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Your Highness, you’re truly breathtaking. So beautiful it’s hard to look away.”
“Thank you,” Lucifer replied coolly, his eyes still fixed on me.
Caro’s voice was shaking now, his eyes darting around. Lucifer, on the other hand, had the posture and poise of Queen Elizabeth II: royally seated, waiting for praise, and then acknowledging it with a calm, immovable “thank you”—like admiration was simply his due.
And now he was looking at me. Was I supposed to say something, too…?
“Your Highness, we’re students from Divine Law…” I cleared my throat, jaw trembling so much I could barely get the words out. “We—we’ve got exams coming up, but our Celestial History’s a mess, so… so…”
Why did I sound more nervous the longer I talked? I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore.
“So you want me to tutor you?”
The moment those words left his lips, my brain blanked out.
What the hell was I thinking, saying something that stupid?
Lucifer, the Vice Regent of Heaven, giving a damn about some random students’ exam prep? He was definitely being sarcastic. I’m so screwed.
What I didn’t expect was: I might’ve been brain-dead, but Caro was worse.
“Would Your Highness be willing to teach us?” He asked, eyes sparkling.
Obviously, I didn’t dare say any of this out loud in front of Lucifer. I was just about to stomp on Caro’s foot when Lucifer said:
“Alright. Come sit.”
And just like that, a waterfall of sweat poured down my back.
Did I hear that right?
Lucifer… actually agreed?
I got to my feet slowly, while Caro practically teleported to Lucifer’s side.
“Your Highness, I heard you’ve been working on humans lately. Is that true?”
“Mm.”
“That’s incredible! So where are these humans now?”
“In the East of the Fourth Heaven. But it seems there’s some trouble with Lilith. God might replace her with a new human.”
“Replace her? Then I won’t get to see her?”
“You want to?”
“Of course I do!”
Lucifer clapped his hands. A Dominion appeared almost instantly and bowed cautiously. “Your Highness.”
“Take Caro to Eden. Let him see Lilith and Adam.”
Caro jumped in excitement and ran to the Dominion’s side. “Isar, Isar! Come with me!”
I waved him off. “If I don’t study now, there’s this kid who’s going to look down on me.”
“Aww come on. There’s always time to study, but who knows if we’ll ever get another shot at seeing Lilith!”
Still, I shook my head.
And in the blink of an eye, Caro gave me a strange look. But he quickly turned to Lucifer with a dazzling grin. “See you later, Your Highness!”
As soon as Caro left, I stood up and said, “You must have other matters to attend to, Your Highness. I won’t take up more of your time.”
“I’m not busy. If you need my help, come sit down,” Lucifer said, casually motioning beside him with his gloved hand.
Is this just how all aristocrats act? Why do I keep thinking Lucifer’s mannerisms are oddly similar to Farthead’s?
I shuffled awkwardly over and sat next to him, inching away uncomfortably.
On the table sat a delicate gemstone inkwell. Lucifer flipped through the book, skimmed a few lines, then dipped a golden quill into the ink and circled a few entries in the table of contents.
“This volume’s divided into three main sections,” he said. “Once you get a handle on them, it’s not too hard. The key concepts are prayer to God and the Scriptura of Creation. The key historical developments are the past thousand Berduths of growth in Jerusalem and Shima. And as for key figure—well, you’re looking at him.”
He said it with such a straight face I couldn’t help but laugh.
He smiled too, then continued: “Let’s start with the Scriptura. It also breaks into three parts. First, God is holy, true, radiant, just, loving, and faithful. Second, God is love. And third, the fear and praise of God is the beginning of wisdom…”
Listening to him explain things so patiently and clearly, I could hardly believe what was happening—Lucifer was tutoring me. For free. Like a private tutor…?
Yet whether it was because Lucifer stood at the heights of power or had simply lived too long, he possessed a gift for rhetoric. The same material that had lulled me to sleep a hundred times took on the resonance of epic myth in his telling. He spoke of the abyss outside Jerusalem where the fallen and the traitors were interred—after a period of confinement, they would be cast into the Lake of Fire, never to be reborn. He explained how Shima held a higher status than Jerusalem, yet the latter, populated by far more lower-ranking angels than upper, had six times the residents and was the most densely populated city in all of Heaven. He described how Jerusalem was built on the Solar Heaven, aligned with fire, and thus governed by a fire-element archangel. And how, in early Berduth 6731, shortly after Metatron assumed administration over Jerusalem, the Third War of Light and Darkness erupted.
—A war that should have been an assured victory, but because of the destruction of the Tree of Life, many souls were lost to oblivion. The morale of the divine army dimmed, and what should have been a triumph ended in stalemate with the demonic hosts. The war left deep scars on both realms’ magic, strategies, and weaponry. The following year, on September 29th, Reynor’s only son, Michael, was born in Jerusalem. This angel, hailed as the “Prince of God,” marked the close of the Age of Redemption and the beginning of the new Golden Age.
“September 29th?” I couldn’t help interrupting Lucifer at this point.
“Yes, the 29th of September, year 5442 of Berduth 6731. I still remember how for those few days, it rained everywhere except in Sancta Faylia. Reynor had just been promoted to Archangel for his great merits, and he was in such high spirits that he walked straight into the Sanctum with his clothes still wet. Then he told me, ‘Lord Lucifer, my wife gave birth to a son. You must come to Jerusalem sometime and give him a nickname.'”
Lucifer gazed out the window at the silver-white streets shrouded in mist, as if recalling a long-buried memory.
“Reynor wanted the boy’s nickname to be tied to the sun—because he was born in Jerusalem, City of the Sun, with hair as bright as fire. A child who would grow up to be a great leader, revered and beloved by countless angels.”
“This child… is it Michael?”
“Mhm.”
“Does Your Highness care a lot about Michael?”
Lucifer suddenly turned his head, somewhat taken aback as he looked at me. “Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s only when you mention him that you don’t seem quite like an archangel.”
“No,” Lucifer thought for a moment. “Him and I were not close.”
I’d been about to say that my birthday’s also September 29th, but thought better of it. The class divisions in Heaven were steep enough already. No need to risk overlapping with a high-ranking angel’s son.
Lucifer didn’t press the topic either. Instead, he shifted to talking about how The Divine Codex was a hot exam topic at every academy in Heaven, which reminded me that I was here to study, not to chat.
Without even realizing it, I’d just sat through what felt like half of Celestial History, listening as if to a story. Outside the window, the sun was slowly setting.
It might’ve been the lateness of the hour making me drop my guard. I couldn’t help stretching with a yawn, propping my chin up on the back of my hand.
“The civilization of the Heaven must be close to its peak by now, right?”
Lucifer replied. “From here on, it’ll likely stagnate, or even regress.”
“Right? I thought the same!” I perked up. “Revering hierarchy at this stage only holds things back. Unless someone launches a sweeping reform, it’s bound to decline…”
I trailed off suddenly, biting my tongue and shooting a panicked glance at Lucifer.
“Don’t worry. I agree with you.” He simply smiled. “But a system shaped over thousands of Berduths can’t be undone overnight. Most likely, the only outcomes left are decline or division.”
Dusk in Shima passed swiftly, barely more than a fleeting moment. In those few short minutes, the haze where the city touched the heavens ignited into a blaze of sunset light, streaking across the skyline, piercing up into the Seventh Heaven. Golden brilliance fell across Lucifer’s profile.
Even he seemed to grow a little languid in the warmth, stretching his limbs and wings. The six beautiful wings unfurled beneath the evening glow, emanating a holy light.
In that moment, Lucifer looked no different from an angel stepping out of a classical painting in the Louvre.
But the Seraphic Wings of Light were destined to darken.
The one who once symbolized Light and Stars would one day come to fear the sun.
There are too many variables in this world. Even the noblest of archangels is fated to become the king of the demonic realm. It’s incredible—and tragic.
Then again, even time and space shift without warning.
The universe itself does not stand still, but consistently expands.
Eternity… it’s not a real concept, is it?
……
……
When I got home that evening, Farthead was flying back and forth in the room, visibly ecstatic. But whenever he got happy, he shed feathers all over the place again. Feeling thoroughly duped, I couldn’t hold back and hurled a pillow at him in a fit of frustration. He dropped onto the bedspread and I dragged him out by force.
“You’ve been staying here all this time and never told me who you were? Did you think that just by keeping quiet, I wouldn’t figure it out?”
Ruthfel raised his eyebrows, flashing that infuriatingly smug smile. “I never tried to hide it. You were just too dumb to guess.”
“You—” My temple veins twitched in fury. “Your Highness, please return to Sancta Faylia at once and report to Lord Lucifer. He’s worried sick about you!”
Ruthfel stared at me for a moment, then finally broke free of my grip, turned his back to me, and curled up in the blankets.
“Farthead?” I nudged him. “Stop pretending. I know you’re Lord Michael. Why are you going to sleep?”
“I’m not asleep. I just have a headache.”
“A headache? From what?”
“From your brain.”
“…?”
Before long, Ruthfel had fallen asleep hugging the pillow. I chuckled to myself and got back to studying, thinking that after all, he really was just a child — only to glance toward the window and be startled by a snow-white face and a pair of pitch-black eyes peering in. I nearly toppled to the floor in fright.
The man leapt inside and grinned. “What’s wrong? Didn’t expect me to come check in on you?”
I shook my head and slung an arm over his shoulder to steady myself. “Please, can you not come in like that next time? My heart’s not that strong.”
Metatron shrugged helplessly. “If I didn’t come in like that, how would I find you? You off dancing the hula with demons these days?”
“…I went to the Tower of Luminescence with Caro today.”
“Oh? So studious? Did you actually understand everything?” Metatron sat down, pulled off the red glove on his left hand, and tossed it onto the table.
“I ran into Lord Lucifer there this afternoon. He helped explain some things.”
“You’re surprisingly honest,” Metatron said, smiling as he looked at me, both arms draped over the chair back, his thumb idly stroking the crimson ring on his ring finger.
“Would I have any reason to lie to you?”
This situation was really getting out of hand. Metatron and Isar were intimate partners — do it enough times and feelings start to form. But Isar, unfortunately, liked Lucifer instead. I figured I should draw a clear line before things got even messier.
I sat down beside him, fixing him with a serious look. “Your Highness, there’s something I need to make absolutely clear to you.”
“You want to say… that you’re not Isar.”
“…”
This guy really doesn’t pull punches! What on earth is his brain made of? I genuinely wanted to crack it open and look.
I composed myself. “So Your Highness already knew. That makes this much easier.”
He studied the ring on his finger with a wry smile, then slowly shifted his gaze to my face. “Do you like Lucifer?”
I stared at him with dead fish eyes for a long moment. “…Lord Metatron, since you know I’m not Isar, you should also be able to guess—I don’t like men.”
“He’s the most powerful, most influential angel in all of Heaven. If he wanted, he could also transform into the most breathtaking woman you’ve ever seen. Would you reconsider then?”
“Still no.”
“Why not this time?”
I let out a long sigh. “I just feel like Lord Lucifer doesn’t really have emotions. He’s so perfect it’s almost unalive. No matter how beautiful someone is, if there’s no soul inside, how can you truly like them? I doubt he’d even understand a dirty joke. He’s so detached from worldly things that I’d rather revere him than fall for him.”
Metatron chuckled. “You think he wouldn’t get a dirty joke? You’re judging too much by the cover. He’s so good in bed, he makes women weep.”
A flash of Isar’s blissed-out expression in the Mirror zipped across my mind… I shook my head. “So what? I’m not a woman.”
“So you’re saying you’d never fall for him?”
I finally lost my patience. “If I ever fall for him, I’ll eat noodles through my nose for you!”
Metatron looked delighted. He reached out and hooked a finger under my chin.
“Then it’s perfect—you and I, a pair.”
Boom!
A low rumble of thunder cracked across the sky.
I forced a smile and took a step back. “Don’t touch me again. I’m warning you.”
Metatron stepped toward me. I stepped back. He stepped again. I stepped back again. Finally, I was forced to sit down on the bed, and he leaned over to look me in the eye.
“You and I were always blocked by Lucifer,” he said. “Because of him, you sentenced me to death without appeal. But now, you don’t like anyone. That’s perfect. I’m confident you’ll fall for me.”
I wiped my sweat. “Didn’t I already say? I’m not Isar…”
Metatron scraped his knuckle lightly across my cheek. “I only trust my own feelings. If it feels right, I go for it. I don’t care who you are.”
His hand brushed past my earlobe and locked behind my neck. Then, tilting his head, he slowly leaned in. A moment later, his warm, soft lips pressed against mine.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
It was like a thousand thunderbolts cracked open the top of my skull.
I flung my hand out, trying to land an uppercut—but Metatron leaned back just in time and I missed completely. My arm cramped up from the effort.
He picked up his glove, jumped onto the windowsill, and licked his lips with a grin.
“Darling, I’ll come visit you again.”
I hurled a pillow at him.
“Don’t ever come back!”
I’m pretty sure if Metatron reincarnates, he’d be a ninja—he vanished in the blink of an eye, taking Ruthfel’s snow-white pillow right out the window with him.
Wait a minute. Ruthfel’s pillow?
I turned instinctively and saw Ruthfel sitting against the wall, his big blue eyes half open, full of fatigue.
I immediately buried my head, hands folded like in prayer. “Farthead, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you! I didn’t mean to lose your pillow either—I’m sorry, really, really sorry…”
Ruthfel waved a hand faintly and said, “It’s fine.”
Fine, my foot. He was gone the next day.
That’s the thing with kids. They blow everything out of proportion. I even got the damn pillow back, but he still ran off. Honestly, that’s why you shouldn’t spoil them.
During our lunch break at school, Caro did the unthinkable: he treated me to a meal.
I stared at the plate in front of me. It wasn’t expensive, but the fact that it came out of Caro’s wallet made me want to ask, “Did you spike this with arsenic or something?”
In the end, I stayed calm. “What do you want?”
“I can’t just treat you to lunch out of goodwill?”
“State your agenda first, or I’m not eating this.”
Caro gave me a sideways glance, then quickly reverted to his usual pouty little-wife persona. “Well, it’s like this… I’ve finally moved on from the past.”
“You mean from Lord Raphael?”
“Mhm! I’ve given up on him.”
I grabbed his hand firmly. “That’s it! That’s what being a man is all about! Knowing when to hold on and when to—”
“I’ve fallen for someone else.”
“…So it’s just a rebound.”
Well, either way, the food was now safe to eat. With my mouth full, I mumbled, “So who is it? Bring them around sometime, let me get a look.”
“Isar, I want to ask you something. You have to answer me seriously.”
I stopped digging into my food, chewed what was in my mouth thoroughly, swallowed, and looked at him with equal seriousness. “Go ahead.”
“Do you not like Lord Lucifer anymore?”
At least it wasn’t a question that would make me spit out my food. I nodded and went back to attacking the meat. I mean, come on—someone with my level of manliness? There’s no way that delicate little flower Isar could ever imitate me.
Just as I was reveling in that thought, a sudden possibility struck me. I slowly lifted my head. “Wait… don’t tell me the person you’ve fallen for… is… Lucifer?”
Caro hugged his knees, looking utterly pitiful. “He’s so noble, and I’m so insignificant. I know it’s impossible… I didn’t even realize I was such a shallow person, but when I saw Lord Lucifer, I just… fell for him.”
People always have a rebellious streak. I was going to tell him to give up, but seeing him this humbled, I gritted my teeth and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Who says it’s impossible? As long as you treat him with sincerity, even if you don’t win his love, you’ll still be rewarded!”
Caro blushed. “What I had for Lord Raphael before was just infatuation. But if Lord Lucifer were to fall in love with someone… I’d sincerely give them my blessing… Not like with Lady Gabriel…”
Good thing I wasn’t eating, or I would’ve sprayed food in a corkscrew straight into his face!
I cleared my throat a few times and adjusted my expression appropriately. “Caro, have you reformed? What happened to that spiteful little demon who used to loathe the world?”
To my surprise, Caro didn’t retort. “Isar, you’ll support me, won’t you?”
“Of course I will!” I thumped my chest without a second thought.
After school, Caro went off to the library to accidentally run into his dear Lord Lucifer. As for me, I wandered around the place where I first met Ruthfel but didn’t find him. So I stopped by a shop and bought two big buckets of milk, planning to use them to coax the kid back.
Then I headed off to rehearse the play. Things with Gabriel were still tense—which, honestly, suited the script just fine. Raphael stood beneath the shade of a tree, poised like a gentle prince, approachable, yet dignified. No wonder so many young girls were drawn to him.
After rehearsal, Metatron gave my back a long stare and tossed out a line: “Hauling those giant slop buckets. Are you switching careers to animal feeder?”
“If raising bees counts, then sure.” I didn’t even turn around. After all the unsolicited kissing incidents with him, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for pleasantries.
For once, Metatron didn’t follow. The two buckets of milk were ridiculously heavy, and before long, I was slumped by the lake, panting.
Just then, a leaf drifted down from the trees and landed on the water, sending ripples across the surface. A voice rose from beneath the lake:
“Seriously? You found a virgin? A virgin pretending to be experienced? Poor Metatron… Azazel, he’s even worse off than you—hahaha.”
It was Samael’s voice.
“Don’t bring up that night. That was a nightmare,” Azazel replied icily.
I leaned in closer, finally catching a glimpse of their reflections in the water.
In one of Shima’s private taverns, Metatron sat surrounded by several archangels, receiving a round of hearty applause after downing an entire mug of strong liquor.
“A virgin I could deal with—none of us are obligated to, y’know. But that little thing actually pretended…” Metatron took another swig. “If it were a girl, maybe that’d be cute. But a guy pulling that act, honestly, is just annoying.”
“Hard to believe you’re still going on about this,” one of the others laughed. “But hey, it’s understandable…”
A slightly youthful voice cut through the low hum of conversation: “Lord Metatron, please don’t speak of this any further!”
Under the dim glow of the lanterns, Metatron slowly turned his head, the gleam in his onyx eyes sharp and sly.
“Well, well. It’s Isar. What brings you here?”
Since entering, Isar hadn’t lifted off the ground to fly, clearly nervous.
“That day was my fault. I apologize. But don’t you think it’s beneath your dignity, as an archangel, to talk like this about someone so much lower in rank?”
Azazel snorted. “You knew Lord Metatron despises virgins and still went near him. So what were you really after?”
Metatron waved a loose hand, his fingers brushing through silky strands of hair as he lifted a pair of half-drunken eyes.
“I’m just telling it like it is, little virgin. So—did you leave a bloodstain after that night? Hah!”
The moment the words fell, smack—a sharp crack rang out, and Metatron nearly toppled from his chair.
Isar stared at his own fist, stunned. Metatron’s eyes went wide as well, as if sobered by the blow, turning back to gape at him in disbelief.
Everyone around them looked stupefied.
Isar instinctively took two steps back, only for Metatron to catch him by the arm and yank him close again. Metatron tossed a few gold coins to the barkeep.
“Didn’t think a little Power had this kind of spine. Not bad.”
At that moment, the image in the lake began to blur.
…
…
The scene in the lake shifted to a rain-soaked morning.
Puddles of all sizes dotted the ground, and the air was thick with dampness. Metatron stood before a small house, soaked to the bone, like a drowned bird. He pounded on the door, shouting:
“Isar! Come out!”
“Come out! Do you hear me?!”
“I’m ordering you to come out—did you hear me?!”
“You get out here!”
The door shook violently under his bangs, but no response came from within.
At last, with a deafening thud, Metatron struck the door with a clenched fist. It caught on the metal frame, tearing open his skin. Blood spilled freely, smearing across the pristine white surface in a jarring red stain.
Metatron leaned against it, water streaming down his nose, his lips pale, eyes dark with something like resentment. “Little Isar, if I tell my admirers that I waited outside for you all night… They’ll dismember you. You know that?”
After a long time, his voice returned, weak and drained:
“I know this was my fault. I was the only one who took it seriously… wasn’t I?”
His eyes were hollow. That last sentence felt like it was something he was saying to himself.
Author: Tav Tav
Translating
The Right Wing of God, the one seated at the right hand of the Most High.
