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The Angel (Her descent)

She was falling.

She was falling — burning, burned and ravaged — and she didn’t care.

(That was a lie — and oh how strange was it to lie without concern– she cared. Just not the way she was supposed to.)

She cursed her nature, her precious holy divinity. What good was the blinding promise of eternity, what good was all this power — if you were forbidden to feel, to act on your own? If in the end you were fated to be alone?

It hadn’t bothered her before. She’d never questioned who she was, what she did, where she stood, before him. Never stopped to think, to let in rebellious thoughts of claiming more than what she required. She’d never cared for his kind — how could she? — they were vile and terrible and their existence went against everything good and holy. Everything her kind strived to represent.

(She’d been content. She’d been fine. But then he’d shared his story, and his people’s story, and suddenly —

She hadn’t felt in the right anymore.)

They’d met on the battlefield, amidst the scorching hellfire and screams that chilled her down to her blinding core. They’d fought, black brittle claws against silver-white blessed metal, and they’d fallen together. Down deep into that hole in the rock, lost and trapped without any idea how long they would be stuck.

She’d awoken first, to the stench of his sin; this void-rotten black energy that made him. She’d been angry, a feeling she hadn’t know before coming here.

And… for some reason, she found herself talking — coldly at first, he deserved only her ice, the bite of her sword, but then softly, sweetly. As if she were with a friend. Without meaning too, she poured her soul to this entity of darkness.

(She hadn’t meant to. But so long without the sweet music of her kin, the ring of pure and divine souls —

The silence might have killed her long before the demon did.)

Now, centuries later, she was suffering the consequences of her actions.

“You have no one to blame but yourself.” Her former companions told her needlessly. Their scornful gazes burning more that the blade at her back. They cast her down into the darkness without a second thought — let her burn so coldly, uncaring as the suffocating black that dragged her down.

(Down and down and down some more. Deeper and more terrible that she thought possible.

But it didn’t matter.

He’d promised her after all.) 

And yet… she didn’t — couldn’t — bring herself to care. Even as her flesh burned, her blood boiling, pain arcing like lightning across the expanse of her now barren back — falling didn’t seem so bad.

She’d been warned never to act on emotions, that she could never express what she felt –because then she would have been just like them. Those sinful agents who corrupted and broke others without a care.

( But still, even with all the warnings, the possible consequences towering high above her like a guillotine, she’d still fallen in love with him. Each interaction further cementing that fact, even as she tried to deny it.)

She was an angel, an agent of Heaven, of divine purity and good. He was a demon, an unholy creature of Hell. They’d fallen in love. But only she would pay the price.

She found she didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Do you remember that promise?” She rasped, her insides rubbed raw from the screaming, her divine energy clawing its way out her throat. Her voice lost on the wind. Still, even here in this agonising situation, she felt no fear.

She’d made him promise her something in the dark before she’d been rescued and given him his freedom.

He caught her as she fell, and she smiled as she kissed him, tasting her future.

(She’d fallen, but she would never be alone.)

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