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Sonic booms and whistling winds which announced their arrival, accompanied their descent; all things she would have heard if not for her lack of consciousness. In her dreamy, shallow sleep she was only vaguely aware of their passage from the essence and into the living plane. With each layer of sky they fell through, the ground beneath them seemed to beckon them forth more and more, a welcoming end to their fall. Stardust in their wake and bloodied feathers all around made for quite the sight.
They somehow managed to fall through the jagged cracks, past the sharp edges and straight down the middle. Their new environment clouded with mist bubbling up from a great waterfall that fed into a small pool. Their fall was greeted by the thin surface tension of water, and they plunged down into its depth. The current brought on by the gentle pushing of the waterfall would urge their bodies toward land, drifting to the shore.
The guardian coughed and sputtered, not yet fully awake but clawing at the ground beneath her, expelling water from her insides. One remaining wing, drenched and weighted at her side, flopped uselessly in response to her movements; the drowned feathers slopping and sticking against one another.
Tainted feathers that had stalked their fall now littered the pool as well and were washed up around them by lapping tides that could be called hypnotic; what with their constant and reliable movements. A guardian’s blood never left the surface it touched, and the ivory white feathers were forever dappled in scarlet. The cool breeze produced by the mists and the falls brushed over the two who had been washed onto shore.
If either of them were to look around, they’d be taken aback by the beauty of such an isolated place; a place where perhaps celestial ones came to die. Whatever this place—with its breathtaking hues of purples, violets, blues and teals—contradicted the situation and conditions of the duo that arrived here.
[justify:1po28nj9]Their debacle disguised itself as a parcel, heaven sent with crimson feathers for bows and ribbons, and glistening specs as glitter. The cold waves ravished and washed one's pain away, and upon collision a great splash shot heavenward, recoiling yet unfortunately the Essence would not be scorned nor scolded with said feeble efforts.
Soaked linens weighed Rocsephon down as did the single wing provided such a burden to the fallen angel. Mentally aloft, though in reality belly down; Rocsephon crawled some as he inched his way towards dryer lands. His vision was obscured, everything was a blur and appeared in doubles, sometimes triples. And the angel, where did she go? Panic set in, thinking that LuXifer had respawned and captured her. It was hard to focus no matter how hard he tried.
After taking a minute out to compose himself, he came to notice that she was merely a few feet from him, and with raspy, low pitched vocals, marinated by concern and sensitivity, he'd ask:
[/justify:1po28nj9]
- "... are you all right?"
Despite all of her hoping for her end, assuming this was it, and preparing herself for the situation she’d be in—she didn’t expect to hear a voice! Someone from beyond spoke to her, and for a moment she imagined it being the Almighty. Even with her eyes closed, the voice was an inviting sound to her ears; she wouldn’t be alone in this limbo after all.
Prying open her encrusted and watery eyes, the guardian’s celestial glow that had inhabited her irises earlier against the demon had simmered to a dull golden hue. When first glanced, the guardian realized the voice she heard came from a familiar face, a face she’d seen previously in the essence; it was the male presence who had attempted to help during the battle. She wondered what someone such as he was doing in a place like this with her. As it turned out, this was not the Almighty at work.
With a groan and another clawing at the ground beneath her, she pulled herself further into the land and away from the seeping waters. “Am I dead?” she questioned bewilderedly, her exhausted eyes searching him and then sleepily taking in their surroundings. “Surely I must be if I’ve been brought to a place like this.”
One involuntary muscle spasm later and the guardian’s wing flopped against the ground beside her and jerked like a convulsing body all of its own. The guardian sighed heavily and glanced to the wing before consciously maneuvering it to tuck wetly at her back. She couldn’t do anything with one wing, she knew this, and wondered if now the remaining one would just weigh her down. Would they have to forcibly remove that one as well?
In small patches her memories returned to her upon the shores. First she caught mental glimpses of the battle, the other guardians throwing themselves upon the demon. Then this man who tried to help, even though the fight was hopeless. Then falling…falling, falling, and falling…but not falling alone. Who fell with her? The demon quickly made its way back into her present thoughts.
“The demon? Where is he?”
[justify:2re8otj4]The pain no longer tormented the Warrior of God, and with whatever strength that was left within him, he'd use it to stand tall; resurrecting a posture that best epitomized illustriousness. The eminency of a greater glory mimicked that of a thick fog, or even a flood; sweeping just the space the couple had occupied. Prestigious once again, but his voice would not compliment the sentiments that be.
- "You are not dead... and the demon is no more."
Without feasible evidence, Rocsephon would never know if LuXifer was dead, but he felt that the abomination was still live. Possibly rotting away in the hell he called home.
Rocsephon approached the angel in spiritual form, yet materializing as if reality was combating what was holy and majestic in attempt to nullify the work of a higher power.
- "...That wing bothering you? I've witnessed this situation many times... it'd be best to remove it. Daystar isn't capable of harming angels... so I'd have to remove it by hand... if you'd want?"
He knew what he asked wasn't the easiest of queries to answer, but he only looked out for the angels wellbeing. It was the hume in him summoning these emotions, those of which that wished for her to be well. After all, she fought like a warrior of Mt. Xion, she most certainly deserved the respect of one. Even in times where she may be sullen due to the fact that she could never return to the Essence.
[/justify:2re8otj4]
- "I'm sorry about... up there. Had I disposed of LuXifer quicker... you wouldn't be down here with me. I've failed many an Angel... forgive me..."
Adjusting eyes found their way and managed to move with the tall man’s figure as he rose from the colorful shores and to his feet. The confident and triumphant stance the man took before her was betrayed by the sound of his own words. He assured her she wasn’t terminated for eternity and also assured her of the demon’s demise, but the tone in which he spoke the words, his falter made her question his sincerity.
As the unknown man approached, the guardian watched the impossible turn very probable. The man seemed to almost shimmer in and out, going from something entirely intangible to a solid materialized form. She could have wondered if this was the work of the Almighty, could have questioned if maybe this man had in fact been sent by the Almighty to help—but the mindless, uncontrolled flopping of her sopping appendage led her away from her unspoken questions and suspicions.
With a coinciding mention of her wing by the man in almost perfect harmony with her own focus on it, the guardian watched the wing; which she could no longer call her own or even give it any kind of useful, valuable mention since it seemed to control itself now and was simply a dying attachment to her, and felt the man’s offer sink in. Remove it for her…?!
Could he really do that? Could she survive such a thing? She did survive the demon ripping the first one off, but what about the second? Suddenly the un-owned wing became something of importance again, took on a personification of sorts and felt it twinge of objection.
“…Remove it for me?” the question was offered in such an unsure voice, one almost like a child’s that begged for the explanation behind such an unthinkable thing. A painful realization dawned on her when she replayed the words in her head. “By…hand?” The very vocal mention of the prospect made her cringe. But it was something that would have to be done…
She considered herself brave, thought of herself as being strong; she was capable of fighting. But to consciously and willingly put yourself through pain? What would she be turning herself into? And would she be succumbing to a kind of…darkness? Sure, she couldn’t return to the Essence ever again and this saddened her, but did it also mean that she must automatically give herself to the darker corners of the worlds and delve in the shadowy, murky depths of evil and shadow?
The man’s apologies wrought her through and through. In shaking her head, the guardian dug her fingers into the damp and colorful sands beneath her and began to push herself into a more kneeling or crouching position. “Do not apologize, you have no reason. You’ve failed no one and any Angel would thank you and appreciate your contribution; allow me. Thank you for your bravery and heroic actions up there.” She glanced around in their immediate area before continuing, “And I think I owe you a thank you for my safe arrival…here, wherever we are.”
A daunting and impending dread crept into her when she considered the manual removal of the wing that he offered again. Mournful eyes searched the man again as she considered and reconsidered his proposal. “It’s going to have to be removed, isn’t it? I can’t have it anymore if I don’t have the other, if there’s only one. And I certainly won’t be flying into the Essence ever again…”
[justify:28stturr]"Do not fret..." How could she not? The agony she was soon to witness would probably cause he mind to scratch the surfaces of insanity. Her facade, so soft and beautiful would surely be masked by tears, but then again, she was strong.
Rocsephon's head canted some, allowing his insipid, insensate countenance face her own prior to letting his chin rest upon her shoulder. His left appendage brought her body close to his; his soft fingers delving gently into the flesh of her back, wrapping her tightly. "You're a strong warrior... you can do this." His voice lilting mellifluously, serenading the Angel with supportive lexis exhibiting his clairvoyance.
Preened by stardust, Rocsephon's ambiance would merge with her own whilst his left appendage wrapping about her frame like the opposite. Though loosely, his palm grasping the wingstem of the lonely, soaked wing tightly. "You can bite on my shirt... it'll help." It was as if he could feel her pain before it had manifested. In his case, it wasn't much to fathom such, but putting himself in her position. One who had never felt pain before; it made Rocsephon scared for her.
"I promise... this will be over quickly." Without hesitation, he'd crack the very stem that kept the wing situated amongst her backside. The sound of bones shattering resembled the jinglejangles of glass, a waterfall of such raining upon a hard surface. He struggle for just a seconds time to rip the stem off completely, but successfully he snatched it off and tossed it into the pool of water they had fell in.
"I'm sorry... that you can no longer go back to the Essence... Now I know of someone who feels the same way I do... but I know of a place close to heaven... just like heaven...." He smiled, placing both hands on each of her shoulders, gently pushing himself away from her frame yet never letting her go. "I can take you there if you wish to go..."[/justify:28stturr]
His soft-spoken words did little to comfort her. She knew what was coming and she did not like it. The thought of pain, though she was only just starting to learn the word and its meaning, wasn’t sounding like anything she wanted to be put through. Those thoughts in mind, it went without being said that she was in fact fretting, and very much so.
The crease that formed her lips tipped downward as the man moved for her, placed his chin on her shoulder and encircled her body. She was gently pulled to him and, knowing what was coming next, drew in a sharp breath. Of all the new things she’d been learning so recently; words and their meanings, overwhelming feelings and their reasons. Least of all these was pain. She learned the word and the meaning but minus the quick pain that followed her first wing being removed—she’d never quite experienced something that…hurt.
Another drawing of air, this time masqueraded as a calm and controlled inhalation, and the guardian’s hands sought out the man’s shoulders, steadying herself against him, anticipating the unknown feelings to come. Her limbs shook in reaction to her body’s subconscious fear, and his attempt to reassure her that she was strong mostly went unheard; they wouldn’t have helped anyway.
If she’d known just what to expect, she might’ve been better ready to prepare herself, but having never truly felt pain before, the guardian’s nerves were all she had—and the actual reaction to the pain would be surprising even to her. But since she didn’t know what to expect, the noble offering of his shirt as a sacrifice fell on ignorant ears.
The remaining wing flitted under his grasp slightly and his promise for a speedy procedure echoed in her thoughts just as the wing’s stem was cracked. A shriek, which sounded more like a symphony of bells ringing in unison, tore from her throat and attempted to reach for the very ends of the earth with their volume.
So this was pain. And it was terrible. Something she never wanted to know again.
Such a violent act, the breaking of bones and the screaming of pain, and yet the entire event sounded beautiful. Such beauty, accompanied with such a horrid feeling, could never be justified.
The absence of the second wing enabled her body to bob with a lightness she didn’t have before. The guardian’s head hung over the man’s shoulder where she squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. She sobbed breathlessly, but even her tears resonated as wind chimes in a breeze.
The next thing she felt were his sturdy hands upon her shoulders, pushing himself away from her so that her head must leave its hanging position over his shoulder. Having found the beginnings of balance with her own head, the guardian allowed herself to be held away from the man by his hands, her head slumped slightly; chin to chest.
“Anywhere but here.” This place was quickly beginning to hold too many painful memories for its colorful beauty to make sense to her. She wished to never visit this place again.
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