Author's note: This one originates from a really old comic idea starring Seraphim and little Yanith (Sareth's son) a few years later. Sorry, this one is more bromance than actual love story. Seraphim and Sareth are very close, but not lovers (and they both definitely have an eye for the beauty of human women).

~*~*~

Lord Seraphim, a high-ranking angel and the guardian of the balance between heavens and the underworld. Well, the latter mostly because a certain -someone- had gone and touched him with bloodied hands while he had still been growing in his cocoon in the Tree of Life.

Sareth had also been nothing more than a child. He had accompanied his father, the previous King of Darkness, to negotiations with the archangels and had somehow gotten lost in the garden. Not that anyone else than the two of them knew all the details. If the higher-ups had known exactly who had "tainted" him before he had hatched, they would have never appointed him to his current task.

Seraphim himself had not known of the entire thing until he had by chance run into Sareth, now grown up, on earth. And spying on human women bathing in the river, no less. The demon had tried to hush him before they got caught, but too late. Somehow the ladies had gotten the wrong idea that he was involved too. But he had to admit that life had gotten a lot more fun after that meeting.

That had been a long time ago. Now his duty allowed him to directly visit the underworld whenever he wished. And Sareth had become the king of darkness and had a son of his own, born from his own blood. Literally. That was how demons came to be.

Becoming the king had not considerably lessened Sareth's antics that fell to him to cover up, though. But he didn't hate it. It kept his eternal life interesting.

That was, until Sareth started planning the invasion of human world.

"Please reconsider! Heavens may have turned a blind eye to your actions this far, but what you are doing will without a doubt start a war!"

Sareth didn't stop to listen to the angel. "I am not changing my mind, Seraphim."

"Sera!" a happy child's voice called out, and not a minute later young Yanith, still a toddler by demon standards, ran up to the two.

Seraphim absent-mindedly picked him up. His eyes remained on Sareth. "At least think of your son."

The demon looked at him over his shoulder. "I am thinking of him. This way he won't have to kill me for a kingdom of his own."

Yes, that was how Sareth had gained his own position. By slaying his father. Demons didn't die of old age either, and there could be only one king.

Yanith, unaware of the gravity of the situation, tugged at Seraphim's long hair. "Sera, will you sing me a lullaby? I really, really like your voice."

The angel smiled at him. "Yes, of course."

With his closest friend occupied with his son, Sareth resumed walking. He knew his actions would lead to a war. But he would not let Yanith become his mortal enemy. He could never kill his own child.

"Sareth!" Seraphim called after him. "Listen to me!"

The king of darkness just disappeared. There was nothing more to talk about.

~*~*~

The war came, as inevitably as seasons changed. The earthlings stood no chance against Sareth's armies, but the heavens would not stand idly by either.

It was a blood bath.

Seraphim watched the events through a magical mirror he used to monitor the mortal realm. He knew Yanith was trying to reach out to him through the spirit link device he and Sareth had often used to communicate from their respective homes, but could not bring himself to answer.

The view in the mirror zoomed in on one unmoving, blood-stained body. Dressed in ebony armor only rivaled by his equally black hair. His hand still clutching a dull-colored crimson sword.

He had seen Sareth forge that sword, had seen the brilliance it shone with in the first place. It had been the first thing to rouse his suspicions, as the underworld had never been one to promote battle. They minded their own business, the heavens minded theirs and every few centuries a peace talk was held to ensure that things also stayed that way.

The angel turned away from the mirror, unable to watch any longer. He wrapped his arms around himself, forlornly seeking comfort he would never receive again. His friend was gone forever. And Yanith had lost his father, had been left all alone in the world.

Stray tears ran slowly down his cheeks. "Sareth, you idiot," he whispered. "Why couldn't you listen to me? Why couldn't you even ask him if he wanted to be king at all..."