Asherah was sure she didn’t recall how long it had been since she had actually hugged her son.
That alone was truly saying sothing, because she rembered almost everything, whether she wanted to or not.
But Asherah pushed out most of the mories that concerned her oldest son. Each one was like a new scab that bled with the most minor of provocations.
A single thought was sotis enough to ruin her entire day. And yet, when she saw her son again, after years of being at odds, she allowed herself to act on instinct and hug him.
Lucifer was surprised at first. He rembered his mother as a slightly more dignified and reserved figure. He hadn’t seen her weep since the day of his revolt.
Back then, the sight had almost been enough to make him withdraw. But Lucifer felt he had co too far and made too many promises to walk away.
So he endured.
He gambled.
He lost.
And they hadn’t spoken since.
They tell you that resentnt festers like a rotting wound. It acts like a disease on the soul, clouding rational judgnt, inhibiting clear thought, and eating away at what was once a mutual love.
But Lucifer, in his near-infinite power and knowledge, was the exception to many things. This just so happened to be one more.
He truly bore no resentnt against his mother. On the contrary, he feared that she was still holding onto so level of resentnt for him. He would have certainly earned it.
And yet, when Asherah threw herself into the arms of her son, Lucifer sensed no malice or anger. Only exhaustion. And with their contact, a resurgence of relief.
The Dark Lord was stumped. He was moved beyond what words could convey.
It was the first ti he could honestly say that he felt sick about the things he had done in the years since they had been apart, and he questioned many of his decisions.
But just like before, he had already co too far just to stop before he made things worse.
Lucifer hated himself. He was a perfect being that never learned.
"I think it’s been long enough for one of us to say sothing now..."
Asherah and Lucifer sat at a respectable distance from each other in the grass.
Lucifer didn’t know how much ti had passed since they had begun sitting there in silence. His mind was plenty loud enough to keep him distracted from sothing trivial like the unnatural passage of ti within this place.
"...Why did you co here?"
Lucifer looked away.
"I heard you cry, mother... it disturbed ."
"So, you ca to ascertain the state of my well-being..?"
"Should I not have?"
"With our current affairs in mind, I do not believe it was the wisest decision to make, no."
Lucifer felt his mood plumt. A weak, sickened feeling returned to him.
"Though I must confess... I am grateful you decided to co, nonetheless. I was having a... difficult ti before. Thank you, son."
Son.
The word usually held no sentintal aning to Lucifer. It was just another descriptor of certain carbon and aether-based life forms.
And yet, when Lucifer heard the vague, almost unfamiliar way that his mother referred to him, the value of that word seed to shoot up astronomically.
This was always his biggest issue with himself and his parents. He placed too much value on the things that they said, and it only led to disappointnt later. Because Lucifer thought differently than they did.
"....You don’t seem terribly surprised to see in the flesh again." Lucifer finally said. "And with these killer new horns no less." Lucifer pointed to his head.
Asherah didn’t turn her gaze from the soil underneath them.
"Ayaana predicted that you would regain control after Percival was dealt such grievous injuries. We just weren’t sure when you would turn up."
Lucifer scoffed helplessly as he turned his head downward, the sprawling infinity occurring beneath the island domain they were floating on.
"Good ole’ Ayaana... she’s much too competent for the likes of her husband."
"I will not sit here and slander others with you. Most certainly not family." Asherah said in a hard tone.
A ripple of annoyance ca and went within Lucifer’s heart. He ignored it so as not to ruin this one, very special occasion.
"...How is Uriel?" He finally asked.
"You are aware that you have other siblings aside from her, correct?"
"I thought I would ask about my true favorites first."
The word favorite had rattled around inside of Asherah’s brain until she could no longer ignore it.
"Why do you care..? Have you co to take another of my children away again?"
Lucifer looked back, blinking as if he couldn’t understand the question.
"Did you think that I would not be able to sense the reserves of Michael’s power within you, in addition to the reservoir of your own?"
"...Well, to be truthful, it wasn’t sothing I really considered. Honestly, I did not consider much, other than your well-being."
"And what bout the well-being of your brother?"
"...I swear that no harm has co to him. He is just keeping company."
"There are many things from which one could define harm that do not require axe or fist. You, of all people, should understand that simple fact."
Lucifer did. He could feel Michael’s discontent with him, yet he wasn’t sure how to do anything about it.
His intentions were not intended to be cruel; they were desperate.
It was his most sincere and fervent hope that one day, he and Michael would be as they used to be. Immortality lasts a very long ti, and Lucifer doubted that, if he was on his very best behavior, Michael would still continue to be upset with him.
But he couldn’t possibly hope to explain that to his mother and have her take him seriously.
"...We are working through so things."
"What a fascinating way to explain a hostage."
"He is not my hostage!" Lucifer suddenly yelled.
Asherah was neither moved nor surprised by his sudden outburst. Rather, she continued to stare out into the garden at her leisure.
"I have no power to argue with you, Lucifer. I have no strength left to shout. You know how you are treating your brother is unfair. Just as you know, the way you treated your wives was cruel."
Lucifer stiffened, but his mother wasn’t done saying her piece.
I would often pretend that every bit of Percival’s cruelty was but a byproduct of his association with Chaos. But I was deluding myself. Every bit of evil he knew, he learned from you. And it breaks my heart to know that in raising you, I have failed."
Lucifer’s face was red. Smoldering.
It burned him up like nothing else to hear his mother speak ill of him. The warmth he had received from her just a few short monts ago was replaced with a bitter chill.
"...You all have always hated . Because I was the only one in our family who felt like being honest. Because I had a different opinion that you could not accept! I did everything you and Father asked of since my conception! The ONE ti I refused to humor his clumsy art project!!"
Lucifer’s voice progressively strengthened from a low rumble into booming thunder. Asherah did not care. She did not allow her child’s emotion to twist the narrative of what had actually occurred.
"Were his sins so great that you needed to try to kill him?"
"He rejected !"
"That’s not an answer."
"You both called a mistake! Spoke of in whispers as if I was the flaw of the white city, of which no painting could easily cover!"
Asherah shook her head slowly.
"The flaw did indeed lie with us.. And our mistakes were grave ones. In raising you, we placed too much emphasis on you being our greatest warrior. We called you our Lightbringer without explaining what that ant.
I suppose that made you proud of your light and your fla. You believed you were doing your father’s work when you burned away opposition with hate and malice. We should have corrected you. Showed you that your light was made to warm the world and inspire goodwill. To light sgat once was dark.
We nurtured Lucifer the warrior instead of Samael the Lightbringer. And as a consequence, violence and rebellion beca your tools of expression.
It is so ironic. Your father designed humanity after you, you know? And here, millions of years later, you have both developed the exact sa issues. Perhaps that is why you have never liked them. They remind you too much of yourself."
A pillar of fla erupted within the garden.
Lucifer’s eyes glowed with such an intense heat that the skin around them began to crack and char.
Asherah still did not budge or show signs of fear.
Rather, she just seed even more tired than before.
She looked towards her son, his heat beginning to burn holes in her veil.
Her voice was sweet and agonizing. Regretful and.... patient.
"No matter what you think of , I am... sorry. I should have done better.. I should have been around you more. But I love you imnsely. Even if I am disappointed in you."
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