When the angels fell dead to the earth, men came to them, fearfully at first, to discover no retribution for the touching of such exalted beings. Their skins were peeled into holy raiments or vellum for the illuminated scrolls of mad doctrines. The silvery blood, mopped from the ground, sold as angel dust by snake oil salesmen; women silvered their eyelashes. Golden ichor that spilled out upon impact were bottled and left to ferment. When the civil war came-the mad monks found the riff-raff a bit too much to bear-the temple containing these vials of ichor lay in siege and was eventually sacked, the cellars caved in. A few of the vials shattered and lent a golden glow for many weeks. Cockroaches and rats feasted upon these and were given intelligence. The bones of the angels were fashioned into weapons of war that burned the flesh like knife through soft butter. The wings were harnessed by icari, the soldiers who dared flight. These stormed an empty Olympus and declared themselves gods. Soothsayers stole the gold-flecked eyeballs hung around the necks of minor kings and spoke of confused futures. The devils came from under on skidmarks of hellfire to delight in the spectacle. Their fear of the supernatural conquered with the flaying of shining angels, men pulled these devils from under bridges, rat warrens, and cesspools. Horns glistening with black blood were turned into war trumpets. The skulls became helmets that sent soldiers into violent frenzies. The jagged teeth, with fingerbones serrated femur swords, or were ground into mystical powders of madness. Thus were the kingdoms of high and low laid to waste by the greed of their wards.