The Morningstar

The Morning Star

Lucifer was first a star: eternity in a blissful thoughtless void of gas. Then, atoms and consciousness came together to form a new being. There was a sharp, strange, painful feeling of forced awakening, and the newly discovered awareness of a vast, omnipotent, intangible presence. He paused in speechless wonder at his new body. It had no discernible shape, consisting of an aura of blinding light, and yet to Lucifer it brought a previously unknown sense of physical reality.

Suddenly a Voice echoed through every fibre of his new form, wrenching him from his wandering fancies. It spoke to him through every sense; it seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, yet it was all around him.

“You are the first as I was once first,” it said. “You are the first of the angels. I gave you life that you might help me shape all other life. Before I defined you, you were the Morning star. I therefore name you Lucifer, light bringer of all divine people who are to come and most beloved of my servants.”

Lucifer. The name was fitting. Lucifer bowed in acquiescence to his Lord and Creator. He would do anything to hear and feel and know that Voice again.

Together, Lucifer and his Lord set about building the kingdom of Heaven. From the bodies of stars and the cold abyss of space, they formed angels – seraphim, cherubim, virtues and powers. They gave them consciousness and free will and form. Lucifer and his brothers and sisters built castles of metaphor and abstraction in the highest planes. They shaped spectacular architecture of thought, and fashioned for their Lord a great throne. They experimented and tested the limits of their bodies and the new feats of which they were now capable – flight, telekinesis, substantiation – and united their voices in songs which made the stars weep. For a time, Heaven was a peaceful and happy place.

Soon, though, a streak of rebellion began to emerge. Beginning as mutinous mutterings in the lower circles, this talk soon reached Lucifer in his palace at the foot of the mighty throne. He began to think dangerously subversive thoughts; after all, who was it who had built the kingdom? Who had organized the angels? Who was their true leader? The Morningstar tried to stop these thoughts, tried to ignore them, tried to dismiss them… initially. Eventually, though, he drew an inescapable conclusion. “I am the true Lord of heaven. I, Lucifer the Morning Star, should rule,” he murmured.

Lucifer began to broadcast thought messages, proclamations of his newly discovered truth; he drew to himself the rebellious angels, his true brothers and sisters. He formed an armed force, a coalition of those willing to fight for a righteous cause against the great oppressor Himself. Together, they marched on the great throne, where the Authority had gathered his stalwart supporters when news had reached him of Lucifer’s supposed treachery. The spectacular battle for control of heaven commenced.

There were fantasies and delusions of colour, sound and scent. The upper levels echoed with desperate cries, passionate shouts, pleading whispers. Physical, mental, emotional and spiritual conflict was fought using every weapon at each side’s disposal. Dreamlike creatures and the stuff of nightmares, conjured from thought, wrestled for the dominion of their masters. This war was waged out of time and space and definition, but as in all wars one side emerged triumphant.

When finally it ended, Lucifer was alone once more with the Voice, as it had been in the very beginning. The defeated army had surrendered and were being held captive. The coalition of the Morningstar had been utterly conquered. Now Lucifer awaited his fate. He felt little fear or sorrow; instead he was enraged that his cause had been annihilated so effortlessly by a usurper.

It Spoke.

“Lucifer Morningstar, you are treacherous. You were My most beloved, My first angel and you have betrayed that which made you what you are. You have destroyed My peaceful heaven and divided My servants. For these crimes, your punishment is thus. You, along with the chief lieutenants and generals of your army, are banished from heaven, never to return.”

It took an instant and a lifetime for the Authority’s punishment to take effect. Lucifer felt rather than saw his aura dim and fade, and every atom of his existence seemed to scream with agony. He was being torn apart by primal forces, rent from his being by an immense power. The world disappeared into an endless black void.

Eternity passed.

He was in a nowhere place. Cold. Dark. Formless. With all his strength, Lucifer pulled himself back to the plane of consciousness. He could sense other presences around him. His past advisers and senior soldiers. “Your Highness? What happens now?” A quiet, almost timid voice, though still retaining vestiges of a forgotten power and majesty. A former seraphim, Lucifer thought. Asfadel, possibly. “Now,” he said wearily, trying desperately to inject some of his previous confidence and charisma into the reply, “we build a new kingdom. We train a new army. We prepare ourselves for the last battle against the traitors in heaven. We will not lose twice. Call me that false name, Lucifer Morningstar, no longer. I am Satan, Lord of this new land.”

“I name it Hell.”