Third Person: Rarely, did Lucifer ever dream. He had no need to. There was always something to be done, and for an angel (fallen or otherwise) sleep was unnecessary. It was something that angels did for fun, actually, like a game. Because when they went to sleep, there was a chance that Dream would visit them, and give them visions of what was, what is, or what will be. Angels always had prophetic dreams like this. That was simply the way that Yahweh, God, had intended for their existences to play out.
So that was one reason that Lucifer never really cared to dream. The other was the slight that Lucifer would always remember. It was a slight, nothing more, from Morpheus, Lord of Dreams, to Lucifer, then the Prince of Hell, but a slight against Lucifer is a grave mistake. For in the eons that he has lived and will live, he never once forgot an offense against him personally.
But tonight, after a night of playing at The Lux, he felt good. It wasn't often that he actually felt good. There were too many other things to concern him, usually involving the several plots against him at any given time, as easily as he thwarted them. So Lucifer had decided to dream, just for tonight, and perhaps indulge in some fancy.
"Yet thou shalt be brought down to the nether-world," so was writ in that book, and Lucifer fell.
He fell, and fell, and so he remembered the longest fall the world has ever known. He remembered the fear (if you could call it that) as he fell, felt the heat of flame sear his wings and scald his perfect flesh.
In that story, he fell into Hell.
In this story, he fell into Heaven.
Or at least, so it seemed.
It was a world full of stars, cosmos, and nebulae, and Lucifer remembered every one. He and his brother had created them, after all. Each one was perfection in its design, and all very beautiful, but the magic was lost on their creator, so he sighed, idly.
"It is not often you come to visit my realm," a voice spoke from behind, and Lucifer did not need to turn to see.
"It's not often I care to," he replied in turn, shrugging his shoulders lightly, "but if you were going to pick the past, you could have at least picked something better. You had something going with the Fall, Dream."
Lucifer decided to turn towards him anyways, and wasn't surprised to see that he could barely see him at all. In the heavens, a monochrome figure really blended in.
"It was picked for a reason, Lucifer, and from someone higher than myself."
There were many higher than Dream in comparison to how many stood above Lucifer, but he had a feeling that it was Yahweh after all, trying to send him a message that Lucifer didn't care to hear.
"It is," Dream continued, "a glimpse of your future to come. It is a dream entwined with many others, to which I cannot choose."
That much was surprising, but only made the idea that Yahweh was interfering with Lucifer's affairs more prominent in his mind. He mused the thought for a moment, but only smiled coldly in response.
"I suppose there's not much to do to change that. But we'll see, won't we? If this future, this dream, is intertwined with many others such as you claim, then we can only hope that they don't take advantage of that," Lucifer spoke smoothly, reminding Dream of the animosity between them with his tone.
Dream had done all he needed, and so he left Lucifer to the cosmos of his prophetic dream. Dream did not think about what it could mean. It did not concern him.
But Lucifer stood in his cosmos, and is the dream shifted, he saw a thousand worlds shifting in each star, reflecting back to him an existence separate from Yahweh, yet still intricately twined with it.
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Rarely, did Lucifer ever dream. He had no need to. There was always something to be done, and for an angel (fallen or otherwise) sleep was unnecessary. It was something that angels did for fun, actually, like a game. Because when they went to sleep, there was a chance that Dream would visit them, and give them visions of what was, what is, or what will be. Angels always had prophetic dreams like this. That was simply the way that Yahweh, God, had intended for their existences to play out.
So that was one reason that Lucifer never really cared to dream. The other was the slight that Lucifer would always remember. It was a slight, nothing more, from Morpheus, Lord of Dreams, to Lucifer, then the Prince of Hell, but a slight against Lucifer is a grave mistake. For in the eons that he has lived and will live, he never once forgot an offense against him personally.
But tonight, after a night of playing at The Lux, he felt good. It wasn't often that he actually felt good. There were too many other things to concern him, usually involving the several plots against him at any given time, as easily as he thwarted them. So Lucifer had decided to dream, just for tonight, and perhaps indulge in some fancy.
"Yet thou shalt be brought down to the nether-world," so was writ in that book, and Lucifer fell.
He fell, and fell, and so he remembered the longest fall the world has ever known. He remembered the fear (if you could call it that) as he fell, felt the heat of flame sear his wings and scald his perfect flesh.
In that story, he fell into Hell.
In this story, he fell into Heaven.
Or at least, so it seemed.
It was a world full of stars, cosmos, and nebulae, and Lucifer remembered every one. He and his brother had created them, after all. Each one was perfection in its design, and all very beautiful, but the magic was lost on their creator, so he sighed, idly.
"It is not often you come to visit my realm," a voice spoke from behind, and Lucifer did not need to turn to see.
"It's not often I care to," he replied in turn, shrugging his shoulders lightly, "but if you were going to pick the past, you could have at least picked something better. You had something going with the Fall, Dream."
Lucifer decided to turn towards him anyways, and wasn't surprised to see that he could barely see him at all. In the heavens, a monochrome figure really blended in.
"It was picked for a reason, Lucifer, and from someone higher than myself."
There were many higher than Dream in comparison to how many stood above Lucifer, but he had a feeling that it was Yahweh after all, trying to send him a message that Lucifer didn't care to hear.
"It is," Dream continued, "a glimpse of your future to come. It is a dream entwined with many others, to which I cannot choose."
That much was surprising, but only made the idea that Yahweh was interfering with Lucifer's affairs more prominent in his mind. He mused the thought for a moment, but only smiled coldly in response.
"I suppose there's not much to do to change that. But we'll see, won't we? If this future, this dream, is intertwined with many others such as you claim, then we can only hope that they don't take advantage of that," Lucifer spoke smoothly, reminding Dream of the animosity between them with his tone.
Dream had done all he needed, and so he left Lucifer to the cosmos of his prophetic dream. Dream did not think about what it could mean. It did not concern him.
But Lucifer stood in his cosmos, and is the dream shifted, he saw a thousand worlds shifting in each star, reflecting back to him an existence separate from Yahweh, yet still intricately twined with it.
How curious indeed.
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