rather you call me Sia."
Devil Sia? She asked.
"Just Sia," I told her, carrying her into the living room. "Guys?"
"God," Nick said, figuring it out as fast as I did. "But, why the butterfly?"
Once, I was a lamb. That allowed me to be close to people, to hear what they said without influencing them. It is the same reason I became a dragon. Or a firebird, as I often enjoy on Tyrnigg. Living with the beasts has always been my way. In this form, I will not be noticed easily, yet my shape is still unique enough for all of you to recognize me.
"So," Ron said, sounding appalled, "you made us just to spend all your time with animals? You screwed us up..." And he snapped his mouth shut.
I wanted to let you live your own lives. This let me be a part without being the only part.
I heard her, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the miniature lizard clinging to my outstretched finger. Her wings slowly opened and closed exactly like a butterfly's, but her body was all dragon. Her slender neck and golden eyes turned to lock on whoever spoke, and her little tail spiraled around my finger just like Nick's did with my leg at night.
"They're hurt," I told God. "Emotionally. You get that, right?"
I do, and this is the only way I can change it. She turned her tiny dragon face up to me. I promised I would help, so I am here to do that.
"Why are you blue?" Nick asked.
Because the sprites Sia makes are always blue. I hoped that it would allow you to recognize me, but it seems that you did not need to be convinced.
"The lamb part kinda gave it away," I told her.
Why am I blue? she asked back, but this time the question was addressed to me.
All of the guys looked. Five pairs of eyes turned to me as if waiting for the same answer. "Because that's the color of the first aether I worked with," I explained. "Nick's. I made a blue flower, and then a blue butterfly with it. Now, it just feels like it's right."
But your color is red.
"Well, it's really more orange," I countered.
Your aether, Sia. It is red. Your hair is copper like your father's, but your soul? It is the color of that stone around Satan's neck. Mine is white. All colors come from it, but I saved the red for just you.
"You know I don't really want to be the Devil, right?" I asked.
With a tiny little push, she released my hand and fluttered into the air, moving to take her place on my shoulder. There cannot be light without darkness. There cannot be calm without a storm. You, Sia, are the storm. You are made to feel, and feel so strongly. You embody the chaos that every person - regardless of their world - experiences. The urges to let go, run wild, and be free. I am the other side of your coin. I am the order of reason and logic. The calm. The precise. One is not better than the other.
"But you're God," I reminded her. "You're the creator!"
And the demons in this room prove that even order can be broken. The best plans only work if there is no way to ignore them. I gave my children free will. I made you all to live as you wanted to. That includes the mistakes. I want to be forgiven, but I do not require it. I am also wise enough and strong enough to accept that I deserve their anger.
"And vain enough to rub it in," I mumbled under my breath.
Pride. Yes, it does seem to be a trait I have. So does Lucifer.
"Aw, fuck off," he groaned. "Do not drag me into this."
Which was when I realized that he'd never complained about God. Of all of us, he'd accepted this a little easier. "Why, Luke? Everyone else is having some trouble with this, but you seem to be ok."
He lifted his hand to scrub at his face. "Yeah. Um, I just know that if a lot of shit hadn't happened to me, the five of you would be making plans to screw me over instead of Michael." He glanced over at Ron. "See, I kinda get it. The shit we lived with? It made us who we are, and I'm pretty happy with who I am right now. I'm also pretty happy with you, including the scars, a bit