The Second Rebellion (Revised)

Author's Note: I've made a couple of significant changes from the first time I posted this. I know it's super long (I'm sorry), but any thoughts/critiques are appreciated and welcomed, especially since this is probably the most unsure I've been about something I've written. The additions are things I knew I needed in here, but was scared to write, since I really had no idea, and still don't really, of how to write God in a physical form in a story. I'm submitting this as part of a writing sample to a university MFA Creative Writing program, so if you're not a Christian, feel free to read anyway. I think it might be good to good a non-Christian perspective on the story since I can't assume everyone on the judging board will be Christian. Anyway, sorry for the long note (and I'm not sure this is done here, since I'm new here), but please let me now what you think. Thanks!

The Second Rebellion
         The temple majestically rose toward the sky, its spire sixty or seventy feet high. The ancient wood doors creaked as they opened to admit the last person to the gathering. The temple sat near the back of Heaven, but its location was not indicative of its importance. The temple was were they all gathered in times of distress, most often after a particularly trying mission to Earth. It was a place to feel close to the Trinity; to rejuvenate and reflect; to recharge and remind oneself of the good that had been achieved. The temple was a sacred place for both the angels and the other inhabitants of Heaven. The temple allowed the prayers and desires of the angels to most easily reach the shortsighted humans below, to plant the seeds of faith in them, to plant the seeds of change, kindness, and goodness.
On a normal day, there might be ten or twenty angels in the open space of the temple, but now thousands of angels were gathered, pushing toward the front of the large room, the stone floor cold beneath their bare feet. Some still dressed in human clothes, having just returned from Earth. A few talked jovially to their neighbor, only occasionally looking to the front, where their new leader was quietly speaking with his most trusted follower, Sabinus. Some were glancing over their shoulder every few seconds, expecting to be struck down at any moment.
         A few others sat on the floor, leaning back on their elbows, looking at the wooden ceiling above them. Only one was stonily staring forward, looking over the heads of her brothers and sisters, shaken at how many of her family had shown for Reuel's final meeting before waging war.
         Adalia couldn't fathom why so many were willing to blindly follow him. Reuel, only an angel, and here he was planning the most rebellious and blasphemous act any angel could commit.
         Reuel left Sabinus, taking center stage, smiling kindly at them. Everyone raised their face to Reuel, those seated rising to stand tall and proud, attentive to Reuel’s every word. Adalia seethed inside, clenching her fists at her side, wishing for the first time in her existence to inflict violence on her holy comrades.
“Brothers and sisters,” Reuel's voice boomed over the crowd, his arms extended out to either side as if to embrace them all, the purple sash draped across his chest flaring out then falling back into place. “I am filled with joy that you could join me today.” His arms fell to his sides. Sabinus stood at his right, arms crossed, trying to appear severe, but the look of pure devotion and worship covering his face could be seen by everyone, even Adalia at the back of the crowd, next to the doors.
“Brothers and sisters, we are here to start a new day. We are here to usher in a new era. A era of choice, an era of,” he paused, his bright blue eyes sweeping across his followers, “true free will.” He bestowed another smile upon them as they all clapped and cheered, almost everyone nodding their head, the words circulating among them, spoken in hushed tones until the mass of angels was nearly humming with excitement.
         “Free will,” Adalia whispered, the words twisting in her mouth, burning a hole through her heart as she walked unnoticed through the angels. She never took her eyes off Reuel as he began speaking again.
         “My family, we will be free. Free of having to do a tyrant's bidding. Free to love. Free of having to journey to Earth to fix some trivial problem the foolish, meaningless humans have created. Free to-”
         “Free to do what exactly what, Reuel?” Adalia challenged, stepping through the last of the angels, glaring at the angel who had once been her closest confidant. She knew she shouldn't be this angry, but she didn't know what to do. Her family had turned its back on her, leaving her alone, here, at the front, desperately trying to save them all. “What do you plan to do with your precious free will?”
         Reuel smiled, but he'd lost his earlier charm, the first hint of malice entering his clear blue eyes. “Adalia,” he said tensely, letting his arms drop to his side again. “I didn't realize you were here. I suppose there is no convincing you to join me?”
         Adalia didn't bother shaking her head. “What do you plan to do with your free will?”
         Sabinus, glaring at her, moved forward a step, but Reuel put a hand out, stopping him. Adalia glared at Sabinus, the angel for whom Reuel had abandoned her. The angel whom Adalia suspected had planted the dangerous seeds of this rebellion. “I will do whatever I want, Adalia. That is the point. To be free of our so called father.”
         She quickly crossed her arms over her robe, pressing her white knuckled, shaking fists against her rib cage, unable to reconcile her memories of the Reuel she had known for two hundred human years, of the angel who had saved her countless demons, of the angel who had been willing to do anything to help any human in need, to provide the stories of how the kindness of a random stranger had changed countless lives with the angry, self-righteous, rebellious leader now in front her. Pushing her own confusion, fear, and anxiety away, she spoke, determined to try and save her family.  “Our Father is not a tyrant,” she said loudly, taking another step toward him. “He is all knowing, all power-”
         “He is one person who holds all the power, who controls everything, who controls us, my dear Adalia.” Reuel almost raised his voice, but Adalia knew he would never allow his followers to see that her comments bothered him. “That is the definition of a tyrant.”
         “He is not a person. He is love. He is God.”
         She could feel thousands of eyes on her, could sense some of them beginning to doubt him.
         “Do you know how many tyrants have been overthrown in the history of His precious little Earth? How many will be overthrown in the future? A tyrant can only rule for so long before the people rise up and overthrow him.”
         Adalia's argument was lost in the roar of the angels as Reuel stepped around her, addressing his people. “We must preserve and conquer! We must overthrow God!”
         Adalia stared, shocked, fighting against the ache that astounded her, threatening to make her crumble. Reuel would never change his mind and cease with this madness. She had no idea how it had happened, how he had changed so completely, but the Reuel who fought beside for two centuries was gone. His compassion was murdered; his heart hardened, and there was nothing she could do to save him.
         Adalia crossed her arms, patiently waiting for the roar to die down, watching with disgust as Reuel walked among his converts, many of the angels bowing at his feet, some even kissing the hem of his robe. She may not be able to save him, but she was not going to let the rest of her family leave without a fight.
Reuel walked back to Adalia, standing in front of his people, raising his arms, smiling at her. “Please, Adalia, join us. Your presence today shows that you have had a change of heart. Please, join me, friend. I can do this without you, but I do not wish too. You have been with me through everything else. Please, be with me now.”
         Adalia shook her head, unclenching her fists, her brown eyes blazing with anger and seething with buried hurt. “I will never join you, Reuel. Your plan will not work,” she said quietly. The angels were still roaring behind them. “I did not come today because I wanted to join your ill fated mission. I came to try and change your mind, but I can see that isn't possible.” Her dark brown hair fell into her face, but she didn’t trust herself to brush it away, to reveal her shaking fists to Reuel.
         Reuel didn't miss the hurt and disappointment in her voice, despite her attempt to hide it, nor did he miss the stubborn set of her jaw. He had seen her look like on numerous occasions in the years they had fought together. She looked like that every time a demon or human believed they had finally succeeded in catching not one, but two angels. She always had that look before she managed to think of some brilliant plan to rescue them, unwilling to wait on the help they both knew was coming; unwilling to surrender. For centuries, he had welcomes that look. He knew it meant their latest trial was almost over, and they would have another brilliant story to tell. Except, there would be no daring rescue this time, no story to tell the other angels. He hated that he was the cause, hated that he was causing his friend pain, but they both knew he wouldn't stop.
         Adalia stepped around him, staring out at the faces of everyone she had expected to spend eternity with. “Brothers and sisters, you speak of wanting free will, to be able to decide what you want.” She paused, locking eyes with several whom she knew were not entirely convinced Reuel was right. “But what do you want? What are you seeking that we do not have here? We are in Heaven, in perfection. We have everything we want. There is no pain or suffering here. What do you want with free will?”
      Ten faces changed, now looking at her, frowning at Reuel. “Humans have free will. Adam and Eve had free will. Where did it get them? Do you think the humans are happy? Happy with having to make so many decisions? Happy with stumbling around wondering what their purpose is? Happy with the wars they inflict on each other? Will we become them?” She lowered her voice, every angel now staring at her, silent. “Is having a choice worth loosing Paradise? Is it worth being banished to Earth into a subservient existence?” Several angels nodded their heads while others looked from her to Reuel, who hadn't moved since she began speaking.
        Adalia stood up straighter, looking back to the crowd. If she could convince even one member of her family not to follow him and beg for forgiveness, all wasn't lost. “We all know what happened to our brother Lucifer. We were all there to see his failed journey to power, to see him and his followers banished onto Earth. Why do you wish to be anything but obedient? Do you wish to walk the Earth in agony or be cast into hell?
         “You already have free will. You have the choice to follow Reuel and face inevitable defeat or cease in this madness and reside in Heaven with your family. Why are you willing to fight for something that you already have?”
         More and more were nodding, a low murmur between them.
         Adalia walked into the crowd, raising her voice as she walked. “Our Father is not a tyrant. He is not oppressing us nor hindering us. He is fair and just. Why do you wish to disobey him?”
         There was a low murmur of consent, but not as much as Adalia longed for. Too many were still looking to Reuel, waiting for him to speak. Reuel stepped forward and faced his converts again, briefly looking at Adalia in the midst of the crowd, before focusing on the beings gathered to support him, to help him finally take power. “Do not listen to her lies. She is a member of the old order,” he yelled as he walked into the crowd, pointing an accusatory finger at her through the mass of angels, the purple sash rising dramatically with his arm. “She wants to let God keep his power. One being should not be allowed to have absolute power, as He does. God himself knocks down tyrants on Earth. No man is allowed to be all-powerful. So why should He be allowed?”
        Silence met his question, Adalia and the five angels with her silent with shock, now seeing what Reuel's true motive was for the rebellion, the rest silent in agreement.
         “Why should we not share in his power?”
         Adalia watched as several more angels joined her as she walked to the back of the crowd, the impact of what Reuel wanted nearly knocking her over.
         This wasn’t a meaningless quest to get free will. He wanted to rule, just as Lucifer had. Just as she had watched Lucifer and his angels cast onto Earth and then into Hell, she would watch Reuel and his angels cast out also.
         Five more faces changed, now frowning at Reuel, looking to Adalia, hands crossed over her chest, shoulders now slumped. Adalia took a deep breath, unclenched her fists, and prayed for strength as she looked at her family again.
         “He wants to share in God’s power. He claims he wants to share that power with you, but will he? If he is willing to overthrow God, the creator of the entire universe to gain power, do you honestly believe he will share the power he has fought so hard for?”
         Adalia allowed herself a small grin as she met Reuel’s furious eyes, his entire body rigid. “You claim our Father is a tyrant,” she continued, walking back through the crowd, her robe swishing around her feet, the sound of her feet hitting the stone floor the only sound to be heard in the now silent hall. “You want to be free of a supposed tyrant.” She paused as they all looked at her, most glaring at her for daring to contradict their new leader, some merely frowning, while a few joined her small group at the doors.
         “If you rebel, you will be free of God, be free of Heaven. You will be free of a tyrant.” Some started to grin, nodding their heads, jostling their neighbors, believing they had received another angel to their cause. “You will be free of a loving and just father, whom you see as a tyrant who needs to be ousted from his throne. You think Reuel will lead you to this, but how do you know he will?
         “How can you know that he will not become a tyrant?”
         The crowd shifted, a low discontented murmuring filling the hall.
         Before Adalia could argue further, Reuel stepped forward into the small circle that had formed around her, extending his arms out to either side again, grinning from ear to ear, but she could see the anger and fear in his eyes. “You must not listen to her lies. Why would I become the thing I despise?”
The crowd settled, looking again to Reuel while a few more joined Adalia’s converts near the doors.
         “You have my word that I will not become a tyrant,” he spat the word, turning to glare at Adalia, before turning and grinning at his sheep. “We will all be equal,” he answered solemnly, clasping his hands in front of him for a mere second, before sweeping his arms wide again.
         Adalia looked to the twenty angels at the back of the room, a wooden cross hanging above their heads. “Your only chance is to beg for forgiveness,” she whispered, staring Reuel down. “The archangels will be here soon.”
         Twenty members of her family out of the thousands Reuel had under his control. Twenty was all she had saved.
         It was twenty more than she hoped for.
         “We deserve recognition for our work from our Father and from the lowly humans he so cherishes. We are his messengers, his warriors, his helpers, and that is all we are,” Reuel yelled, clasping angels on the shoulder as he passed them, going from back to the front, extending his arms once more. “We deserve to be more. We can be more.”
         Two of Adalia’s twenty walked back into the group. Four of Reuel’s slowly began walking backwards.
         “You want to be more?” Adalia challenged, suddenly furious, her hair flying behind her as she made her way through the angels in only seconds “What more is there to life than serving God? What more can you want than this?” she asked desperately, hating how weak and scared her voice came out. “Is your pride worth loosing Heaven?” she whispered, now only mere inches from him. “You know you can’t win against the archangels. Please,” she pleaded, “desist with these blasphemous plots and ask for forgiveness.”
         The angels were looking between their two leaders; Adalia’s few at the back nervously glancing up at the front before turning and fleeing, Reuel’s thousands standing taller and prouder, their faces hard, ready for battle.
“I do not need to win, sister,” Reuel sneered the word. “I only need to weaken Him. I have over half the angels currently in existence on my side. I have more than Lucifer could have ever dreamed of. How do you think your perfect Heaven will fare with half its force gone? Two-thirds gone since we were first created?”
Adalia could only stare at him in horror.
“How do you think the humans,” his face twisted, an ugly snarl contorting his lips, “will survive with the Trinity stretched so thin? How can God inspire trust in the humans when his own angels have turned against him?”
“That’s why we must stay strong. We must have fa-“
         A booming voice filled every inch of Heaven, stopping every being within it. It was a voice they all knew and responded to immediately. The voice of their Father said only one word, a soft cadence that was neither male nor female, filled with disappointment and longing.
         “Reuel.”
         Adalia uncovered her ears, looking out at the scores of angels. Many disappeared in the blink of an eye, fleeing at the sound of God’s voice. But over half the angels continued standing, ready to fight.
         Reuel grinned, grabbing Adalia’s shoulders, the movement familiar to both of them, memories rushing in of all the times Reuel had touched her exactly in this way, trying to gain her undivided attention to tell her something important. “You see, don’t you?” His eyes shone with triumph and joy. “He knows I’m a threat. No matter what happens, I have already won.”
         Adalia wrenched herself out of his grip as the doors to the building flew off their hinges, but no one ran for cover, simply turning to face the archangels. Michael blazed with fury in the front, his sword raised, his wings extended. Behind him, stood Gabriel and the angels who would one day open the seven seals, each with a sword drawn, all of their wings extended, filling the doorway.
         Reuel whispered something behind her, but it was lost as Michael spoke.
         “Adalia, you must leave now. We know you are only here to help, but you have done all you can. You do not need to be here when God arrives. Leave us.”
She didn’t hesitate, disappearing from the hall in a second, leaving Reuel grinning at Michael, his body thrumming with energy.
      “Finally,” he whispered, inhaling a deep breath. “Finally.”
      Michael and the archangels parted, a bright, white light temporarily blinding Reuel, who refused to close his eyes. His thousands of converts covered their eyes, a few screaming, several falling to the hard, cold, stone floor. Those on the ground quaked with the true knowledge of what they had agreed to do, seeing the error of their ways in that brief instant.
Reuel didn’t blink, didn’t waver as God walked toward him. Reuel ignored the waves of disappointment and anger that tried to suffocate him and his followers as the Almighty walked closer.
      Reuel’s grin grew wider as the creator as the universe walked calmly toward him. His eyes glinted with triumph, reaching his arms as if to embrace his Father, now showing all of his teeth, his face twisted somewhere between a maniacal smile and a sneering grimace.
      “Reuel, there is still time to change your mind. There is time to repent.”
      Reuel scoffed, staring at the face God had chosen to posses. His hair was a dark brown, ending just above his ears, his skin a light brown, his eyes a pale blue, paling in comparison to Reuel’s bright, ocean blue eyes. Reuel again ignored the disappointment, and now, hope, flowing over him.
      “You know I won’t.”
        Reuel stopped smiling. His face contorted back into a stony store, every muscle in his body tense, wishing the conversation would end. Once on Earth, he could begin the second part of his plan.
        “I know about your deal with Lucifer, and I know how you intend to overthrow him as you intended to overthrow me,” he spoke quietly, but his words carried through the temple. “You won’t succeed.”
        Reuel’s stone façade slipped, anger filling his eyes and heart. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered loudly. “I don’t have to rule Heaven or Hell to destroy you.” Reuel allowed a grin to spread slowly across his face, sadness now mixing with the anger, disappointment, and hope filling the room.
        Reuel took a step closer, standing nearly nose to nose with God, knowing the worst God could do was banish him to Earth, or perhaps Hell, but he was prepared for those consequences. He welcomed the chance to be free of Heaven.
        “The only thing I have to do to obliterate you is to plant doubt in the minds of your flawed, ignorant, humans. Once I convince them you are not worthy of their worship, devotion, and love, I have won,” he whispered, smirking, holding back the laugh that wanted to escape from him.
        God looked away from Reuel then, beckoning toward the angels behind him. “Abir, Kadit, Paltiel, and Galia, come forward. I forgive you, my children,” he said quietly, gracing each with a smile as they passed him, tears on their cheeks, their hearts bursting with guilt, broken apologies gurgling past their lips as they reached their Father. “Michael, allow them to pass.”
      Reuel didn’t glance as the angels left him; they had never been fully committed to his mission. “The additional loss of four followers will not hinder me. I still have more angels on my side than when Lucifer rebelled, and unlike him, I will succeed, no matter what you say. Lucifer only failed because his dream was too small, his goal too focused. He didn’t see that your greatest love would also be your greatest downfall.”
      The laugh he’d been suppressing erupted from him now, echoing off the ceiling above him, reverberating through the walls, a deep, throaty, slow laugh, growing and growing until it filled the room.
      God stood patient, agonized, as Reuel laughed and Michael took several steps forward, the sound of footsteps lost in the sound of Reuel’s insane laughter. Reuel’s followers all grinned behind him, stiffening their shoulders and resolve, willing to follower their new Father wherever he decided to take them.
      Reuel took a breath as his laughter died away, one hand over his heart, the other across his aching stomach. “No matter what you do,” he said, nearly breaking into another bout of laughter, “you can not defeat me. With the seeds of doubt I will plant in the heart of every human on Earth, I will kill you. A select group willingly murdered your son. I will convince the rest to murder you also.” He took the final step forward, pressing his chest into God’s, whispering into his ear. “I will erase you from their conscious. One day, you will never even be remembered as a part of history.”
      Reuel nearly flinched from the spike of anger that filled the room and stumbled as pity and sorrow hit him. He would have fallen face first to the stone floor if God had not caught him, holding him steady as Reuel glared at the stone floor, quickly wrenching himself away from the supporting arms, taking several rapid steps backward, sneering, as God spoke.
      “You can try, my child, but you will not succeed. As long as I am in the heart of one person living, I am on Earth. As long as one person has the faith of a mustard seed, I will be present on the Earth, and I will grow.”
        Reuel shook his head, opening his mouth, but he abruptly stopped as Michael stepped forward, parallel with God, his sword gripped with both hands in front of him, the point mere inches from the ground. Reuel watched, transfixed, as God placed one hand on top of Michael’s fist on the sword. The sword glowed an even brighter white, the flames circling around both of them, encasing them in a fiery circle, before coming back to the sword, circling around their hands, twirling down the hilt of the sword, down the blade, to form a fiery bridge from the point of the sword to the ground.
        God pushed Michael’s hand down, the fire and the sword becoming one as it struck the stone. A boom cracked through Heaven, stopping everyone in his or her tracks, as silence enveloped every corner of Heaven. The struck stone cracked sideways, rapidly expanding, stones cracking in a nearly perfectly circle around Reuel and his children before cracking inward, the stones beginning to fall into the abyss opening below them. Shouts were heard as the chasm opened, first claiming those at the back of the crowd. Reuel didn’t take his eyes from God as the floor opened, sending more and more fallen angels into the abyss below, their shouts swallowed by the beyond, by the fall to Earth. In the milliseconds between Sabinus being swallowed and Reuel following, he realized why they had chosen that particular stone.
        He recognized the stone now, recognized its significance. Of course, God had chosen to begin his descent by piercing the stone where Reuel had first kneeled and vowed to protect the Trinity, Heaven, and all those that inhabited Earth. It was the place when he had first accepted his purpose in his existence, his unyielding passion for the Alpha and Omega. It was the place he had knelt after seeing the humans slaughter one another; the place where Adalia had found him, weeping, lost and confused, and provided the words he’d needed to keep going; the place where he knelt after tricking Lucifer into believing he would overthrow God to give Lucifer back his home all the while intending to overthrow Lucifer also; it was the place where he had lost his faith.
        All thoughts, words, feelings, and sensations left him as the hole opened wider, the ground left his feet, and he fell.
         Adalia, and everyone else in Heaven, felt the air change, felt Reuel and his thousands of angels as they fell to Earth. For several long seconds, silence reigned, the enormity of the action overwhelming. Adalia didn’t breath for those few seconds, unable to comprehend how someone she had thought she’d know so well had fallen so far. Noise erupted in the streets, but the sounds barely reached Adalia’s ears. She knew where they would be headed. It was the only logical place to gather in such a time as this—the temple.
         That night on Earth, any human who looked to the sky from any part in the world witnessed the most beautiful and mysterious shower of falling stars. A poor farmer somewhere in Europe looked up as he was walking back to his house, his young son’s hand holding tightly to his.
         “This isn’t good,” he muttered, stopping to stare as the balls of light kept falling, seeming to never end. He could hear shouts from town, inevitably from ignorant folk who had never seen a star fall before.
         As each blazing ball of magnificent light fell toward Earth, they split into two. The two new stars continued to fall as everyone turned their faces to the heavens to watch the show. Once again, they split into two as they grew brighter and brighter until they entered the atmosphere, glowing bright white for the briefest moment before fizzling away into nothingness.
         His son looked up at him, but only for a second, before turning his attention back to the skies, his young face open and innocent. “What do you mean? They’re beautiful.” His childish voice was quiet with awe, trying to track the progress of every star, but it was impossible. There were so many they turned the edges of the sky orange.
         “Something’s wrong in Heaven,” the man muttered, remembering the stories his grandfather had told about how a falling star represented an angel of the Lord who was cast out of Heaven.
         “Heaven?” his son questioned, now fully looking at his father as the man scooped him into his arms, kissing the lad’s hair as they continued walking. “But Heaven’s perfect.”
         “Yes, but sometimes the angels are not.”
         His son frowned at him, looking back up at the sky, wrapping his small arms around his father’s beefy neck. “It’s still beautiful.”
         “Yes, son, it is,” he agreed, placing one hand on the child’s back, while using the other to open their wooden door, his wife calling for him from the living room. “Beautiful and haunting.”