A/N This story has been a WIP for so long, I'm actually embarrassed at myself. As it is, I literally just managed to finish the first chapter. It's crap, but I'm too tired to work on it any longer. Also, rebirth is totally a thing. Like, for real. Okay, on to the story now. :)~Sammy
-and so she watched
One
They meet under a maple tree.
It isn't a first meeting, and it isn't a last. It's just a meeting, like all the others. (their first meeting was bloody, with screams and shouts and pain- they suspect their last meeting will go something like that too, and they don't really care)
It's autumn and the leaves have turned colors- they haven't faded so much as exploded into vibrant shades of yellow and orange and ochre and brown and, their personal favorite, red. The hard-packed dirt underneath their feet is carpeted with five-point leaves that paint the path with fire and warm sunsets. The leaves are dry- they crunch and rustle and hiss with every shift of their dusty boots, like so many snakes guarding a nest- and they spend the first few minutes of their meeting simply kicking them up in a cloud of childish glee and once-beautiful dead things that are still beautiful.
The leaves settle down though, (too soon, always too soon, never enough time for play, is there, big brother) and the brotherscomradessoulmates stand in front of each other, their chests heaving with breaths that are heavier than they should be.
their wings once beat for days without a thought, and the skies spread out below them, theirs to explore, to discover, to claim
His little brother, taller than Him, is the first to look away. he casts his gaze up at the sky that is a clear blue (but he had once seen bluer skies, he had once created bluer skies) and he sighs- a gesture that's so common, He laughs, a laugh that bubbles up and tumbles over jewel-pink lips that barely smile anymore. (He's fallen but less fallen, because He fell first but He fell slower)
bored, brother?, He asks, His lips- the ones the filthy little mud-monkeys begged to have a taste of- twisted into a smile that is not a smile but a crude upturn of His lips into a sneer.
His brother laughs. ialways am.
He barely sees the flash of silver in the pale sunlight before the blade is sinking deep into His brother's shoulder.
The leaves rustle, scream, and He rushes forward, catching His brother even as he sinks to the ground, His fingers deep in his feathers. (they're ashen gray and molten red, a shimmering darkness to hide behind when the fires grow too bright)
He can hear the whisper of wings as the sneaky bastard of an assassin flits away, but He pays no attention to it, because His little brother's got a blade stuck in him, and there's the faintest hum of Grace dripping out from the wound.
shamsiel, He says, yet somehow there are no words on His lips, only cries of pain pain pain.
Shamsiel smiles that infuriating smile he always smiles when everything is wrong but he's grasping at reasons to be cheerful. your wings get fluffier when you're worried, diniel. if only the fledglings knew what a softie you are.
And Diniel laughs, because the other option is crying, and warriors do not cry. you can tell them yourself, He says, instead.
Shamsiel looks down at the blade in his chest, at the Grace slipping away, faster and faster, and when he looks back up, his eyes are shattered glass, sharp and fractured. i don't think i will, brother. not this time.
The scorch and flare of dying wings is agonising, Diniel thinks, later, when a Fallen One has His own blade positioned over His heart, where rough feather burn scars crisscross over smooth skin.. He imagines Shamsiel's worried eyes, his apology for hurting him.
it's alright, He says, i will join you soon enough. and until then, i will wear your scars as a gift.
An angel's death toll sounds through Heaven.
It sounds like relief.
(Shamsiel- from book of Enoch- sun of God
Diniel- an angel of amulets- guardian of the infants)
A/N Was that weird? Yes. Will it make sense after a couple more chapters? Definitely. Let me know what you thought in a review. Reviews are food for the Muse. :) ~Sammy