There is a legend, as old as time, that began with birth of the oldest star.

In a time when there were things of then men and beasts in the world. It was a time of angels. Beautiful beings with white wings that brought them close to the ceiling of the skies. Angels, that dwelled in Heaven. Angels, that were said to be the purest of all, for the heart rules everything.

In a time before devils and demons, when God loved his angels.
When the angels were closest to God.

Angels are soulless...

The eyes of an angel are unbalanced, mistmatched and forever tainted. With one hand tilting the scales of life and death, stained crimson; the other countering the scales, pure ivory. This position, half in Death and half in Life was a rather uncomfortable place to hold; esepcially at the moment. The First War had ended with the casting down of Lucifel, once the brightest in all the Heavens. The Second War, however had just begun.
The darkness was in love with the light, it was inevitable.

God made Man. An imperfect species, with gawky legs and arms. They lacked the ethereal light and ~being~ which the angels had. Yet..... Men have souls. Angels do not. Soon the rift between God and several of the angels. They began to feel the love for the beings with souls, and the only distaste of their own lacking.
Lucifer, in his chasm of fire, was far from content, but perhaps of all the angels did he know. He knew the souls of men are easily led astray, as well as the fact that men are mortal. Angels are not unless they enter the realm of man.
To Lucifer, God was love. And God had rejected him.

The darkness was in love with the light, but death was in love with the dark.