Once there was a war in heaven, so the stories go. The stories are true, for the most part. It was The War, The First War, The War to Begin All Wars, and there was not a spot in all of creation that did not fall in its shadow. It was a war between the Creator and the Once-Beloved, The Light, the Morning Star. Why the war was fought, who struck the first blow…these are things that storytellers disagree on. I have my own theories, but you might have your own. The thing that almost everybody agrees upon is that the Creator triumphed and exiled The Once-Beloved outside the Shining Kingdom.
The Once-Beloved and the rest of its followers, no co-exiles, found themselves on the newly created Earth, with all its Life and wonders. However, for all its primeval beauty, the Exiles were in agony, for they were not created to live in Mortality. Their skin scrawled, their stomachs retched, their eyes bulged…until the Once-Beloved, in desperation, clawed a hole in the wall of Creation, and climbed through into another place, with the rest of the Exiles following.
This new place, twice removed from their place of origin, was filled with absolutely nothing. It had no height nor width nor depth. It was Nothing, and it was now the home of the Exiled, because in that place they could once again turn back to their hatred of Creator and Creation, and while in that No Place they could not see the Shining Kingdom, they could see its reflection in the Earth and the Life upon it.
Their hatred grew.
However, not all of the Exiled were the same. Most of them were licked and scarred by the flames of The War, and their wound did not heal, so they were red and their anger grew in reaction to the pain that never went away. They sometimes grew so terrible with rage they would jump back through the hole of creation in order to kill, to maim, to sow chaos in creation. Some were brutish, some were sly, but they all took delight in spreading evil.
There was also a smaller group of the Exiled that had not been directly involved in the battle and so did not bear those same scars on their skin. When they fell to Earth, their first reaction was to moan in agony from the loss of warmth of The Creator’s presence. In those few moments on the surface of the Earth, they fell into self-pity and regret, and their skin and bones and hair and organs and everything they were turned blue the loss of the Creator’s love. When these Exiles escaped with their peers into the No Place, they did not turn immediately turn to vengeful hatred of the Creation, but rather hatred of self. The were not noble or repenting, but mewling, pathetic creatures who did nothing of action. Instead, they let their waves of resentment leak out into Creation, and if you would happen to be caught in one of these waves, you would do anything, even end your own life, to be rid of the anguish.
Once human beings began to walk on earth, some of them became aware of the Exiles next to the Earth and under it, and they called them devils. The red ones were feared. The blue ones were almost never spoken of. And under the shadow of secrecy, the Blue Devils began to exert their influence in a different way.