Prologue

It was finished. The battle was over. The Devil of tomorrow had been slain, crucified on the cross where past, present and future intersect. The saviors born of the battleground—matured seeds who had been planted in their infancy into the Earth of War—had descended into the Hades that is the future where they engaged in an apocalyptic battle with the Devil of the world to come; and had arisen victorious, bestowing light upon a world in chaos.

The sins of the past had been annulled by the grace of the present. The curse had been blotted out, and the world had been restored to its previous state, before death had reigned. Hades had been despoiled, the veil of darkness had been lifted, and the people of the world were free from the tyranny of the Slanderer.

Yet, the Angel's heart was not at peace. The man she loved was not there. He had promised that, once the battle was over, he would be waiting for her there. If you come here, he had told her, you'll find me. I promise. Yet, he was not there.

Why wasn't he there? Had something happened to him? Had he gotten lost in time, or walked into the wrong time period? Or was he…

No. He could not have been dead. It was impossible. He had promised to meet her there. He would not break that promise, for he had made the vow from the depths of his soul. She had gazed into his eyes—those deep, dark, piecing eyes which told no lies; which reached out to her, captured her and pulled her into the abyss of his very being—and she felt the power of his words in her heart. He would be there, no matter what. In that very field, painted with the vivid colors of red and white lilies and cooled by dancing winds, was the very place where she would find him waiting for her.

But why wasn't he there?

Something was definitely wrong. She could sense it in her heart.

The cold wind blew violently, as if it had sensed her pain. Hundreds of flower pedals danced in the wind, blowing towards the Angel as she shivered. That was when a brilliant idea knocked on the door of her mind.

She reached out and gently snatched a pedal from the air. For a moment she gazed at it in the palm of her hand, studying the inanimate product of nature with a newfound awe. It was not sentient, yet it served a purpose, however minute it may have been. Now, she had a job for it to do; a higher purpose for it to serve.

I know you can't hear me, she said to the pedal without any words, but I need your help. Delicately, she closed her hand, safeguarding the flower pedal in her loving, almost maternal grip. She let power flow out of herself, channeling through her arm, into her hand, and eventually out of herself and into the pedal. She was imputing a bit of herself into this insentient marvel of nature, pouring her heart out to its deaf and dumb likeness, infusing its simple substance with her otherworldly power.

She could feel a transformation taking place in her hand, like a caterpillar undergoing metamorphosis in its cocoon. She could feel life being created in her delicate grasp.

The Angel opened her hand to discover that the flower pedal no longer existed. Instead, a soft, immaculate white feather sat in her hand, glowing with an angelic aura. But the main difference was not the change in appearance. That meant nothing. Rather, the aspect that made all the difference in the world was that this pedal-turned-feather was now alive. Not alive in the sense of being a part of nature, but alive in the same sense that human beings live: it could now think.

Not only was this newly-created angel feather now a creature in and of itself, but at the same time it was also an extension of the Angel's body. They were two creatures, yet at the same time they were one.

Two minds in one body.

What is it that you need of me? the feather asked her in spirit.

I need you to find him, the Angel replied. Find my love. I don't care how far away he is. Travel to the ends of the universe if you have to! Just find him

My Lady, the feather said, I will do as you ask. Only look, and you shall see. I am your eyes. Look with the eyes of your heart, and you will see what I see.

With that, the feather flew from the Angel's hand—whether the wind carried it away or if it flew by its own power, she did not know—and danced its way skyward. She followed it with her eyes as the feather drifted its way towards the heavens.

As hre eyes lost sight of her creation, the Angel began to visualize the last few moments she had spent with her lover and their friends. She remembered the nearly impossible battle they had fought together against the Devil. She remembered the last time she had gazed upon his face, surrounded by a heavenly light, after he had run his sword through the beast's heart. She recalled the anguish she felt as his visage faded away into the infinite abyss of light.

For only a few weeks had she known him; but in that short amount of time, an entire lifetime had passed. When she met him, her life began anew. He had given her a gift that no one had ever, or ever will again, be able to give.

Oh, how she longed to see his face once more…