'...Who art in heaven...'

The heavens opened, and a driving, lashing rain hammered down.

Lucifer inhaled deeply, his face raised heavenward, bathing in the torrential downpour, and raised his hands in exhilaration to the darkening skies. Six monstrous black seraph wings rose behind him.

'My kingdom come...,' he cried, his steel blue eyes blazing with fervour.

The soaking strands of his matted locks thrashed against his face, masking the scarred imperial features.

'His will be done,' a soft voice echoed from behind him. Lucifer smiled. A slow, satisfied smile.

'Michael...,' he murmured, his back to his brother, 'you are late.'

Michael stood on the far side of the mount, his hand on his sword, silent. Lucifer pushed his long raven mane back from his face, turned, and studied his brother intently.

Michael wore the long white silk robes of his battalion's ceremonial regalia. The sapphires on his silver breastplate gleamed, and his flaxen locks were tied back in two platinum braids. The handsome, chiselled features were set.

Grim, pondered Lucifer. No, not grim - earnest. Earnest, noble Michael. Nothing has changed, he reflected. He laughed sardonically.

'You summoned me through the royal courts. What brings you here, brother?' Michael strode to and fro impatiently. Lucifer grinned his old magnificent smile, relishing Michael's frustration.

'I was passing by the area,' he said casually. He walked towards Michael, across the crests of the raging waves, in long, firm strides. 'I was curious, brother.' Lucifer drew his head close to Michael's. 'I would learn of the legends ... of the white rock in the wood,' he whispered. Michael's clear green eyes locked on to Lucifer's inscrutable sapphire gaze. 'Legends of Michael the Archangel...'

Michael flinched as Lucifer's seductive dulcet tones penetrated deep into his soul. 'The stuff of fairytales,' Lucifer continued.

'I traverse many lands.' Michael replied.