"I have chosen." Jochraim smiled at Abaddon, who gave one of his rare nods of approval.
"Yes, you have. I must say, your solution was rather unique, enough so that I need not ask your reasoning behind it to determine if you were loyal to our ideals." Abaddon furrowed his red brow for a moment, before speaking again. "Tell me honestly: Did you yourself come up with this idea?"
Jochraim's already grinning face turned even more sour as the grin was twisted. "Actually, it was mentioned to me by one of the Archangels." Abaddon looked baffled for a moment, then burst out laughing. "For the first time in years, I think we have a competant recruit." Abaddon furrowed his brow more seriously, reaching a hand up to stroke one of his horns--a sign of serious thought. "It is important to remember what we learned Up Above before we were cast into this Pit...In fact, I believe you have just earned your wings..."
Jochraim felt a searing pain on his back. It reminded him of that day, so long ago, that he had become one of the Fallen. He went to his knees, sobbing...but after a minute or two, he felt strong enough to stand on his own two feet. He pulled his wings up behind him, and turned to look--and gasp. They were magnificant...a translucent blue, wavering as if looking at them on a very hot day. Which, of course, it was. Not because hell was flames all over--of course not. Hell was merely a gathering of the fears of the people there. You'd just be surprised at how many people were actually afraid of immolation.
Hell itself, at least if you were one of the Fallen, was not altogether a bad place. It was just a twisted version of Heaven. Imagine two houses built on the same floor plan, with one twist: The builder was allowed to build the first house (Heaven) while looking at the floor plans, but when it was time to build the seecond house, he was to do it from memory alone. Yes, there were places where Heaven and Hell did not match up. For every statue of the Angels or those revering God in Heaven, there was a statue of one of the Fallen in Hell, though they were admittedly outnumbered by the statues of the Master. One thing that a person would notice was that Satan had no altar to himself. He needed nor wanted any followers, other than the Fallen. Satan found it charming that people would worship him, in the same way that we find it charming that a dog will allow us to pet it directly after kicking it. Satan held no special place in his heart for those humans who followed him. It was far easier for a human to come to evil than an Angel.
"Lord Abaddon...will you forgive an impudent imp a question?" Jochraim was plesaed when Abaddon nodded. "Lord, why have the Fallen never assaulted Heaven directly?"
Abaddon simply looked at Jochraim for a moment, and it was apparent that he was considering punishing him for asking such a question. Jochraim let out a sigh of relief when Abaddon answered. "We are powerful, yes, but remember whom we would be fighting. Who can curb the strength of God?"
Jochraim frowned. "He must have limitations. He lets the Fallen live, instead of wiping us out..."
"That is only because he needs us to rain hate upon those not worthy to enter his kingdom." Abaddon was frowning now, and Jochraim knew he was on thin ice.
"Then why does He suffer us to go into the mortal world and tempt humans?" Jochraim frowned himself.
"Because--" Abaddon paused for a moment, and frowned even deeper. "...because little imps like you ask to many damn questions. You have your hell-wings, go use them. Come back tomorrow, Earth time."
Jochraim nodded, and couldn't help but wonder if he had planted a thought in Abaddon's head.