Between Heaven and Hell
Isaak POV, on the finding of two angels. One-shot.
I found an angel one day. Cast down from the sky. A pile of ashes that long ago had ceased smouldering. Godly dirt. An exquisite grey dust that made into the form of a man…was perfect.
However, the ashen angel is a delicate one. The new body, a horrible carbon shell, does not hold the same wonder as his real skin. Skin that writhes at the blood vessels, full to bursting with the Crusniks that call him home.
Years ago, following the day he came alive, we wandered. The world's new tenant, and I his faithful servant. Forests welcomed him, sheltered the newly born seraph, and in turn he made a promise to the trees themselves…
Countless years we hid from the sun, under the blanket of the moon. Each thicket, grove and copse seemed a home for an angel and his lowly butler. But still we kept on flight.
And another fateful day, standing tall in the midst of which I have lived. Was it by my luck that we found another one? Another castaway…not an ashen heap, but one already alive, and dying to prove it.
This one, a boy, a human who had taken only a few years in his book. His voice was a sing-song of fear and sadism, betraying a mind not of his age. A move of his fingers, and both of us travelers took pity on his romantic face.
I do not know a name for the first angel I found, but the second is beyond doubt. Lucifer. Milton's creation, one so fair and foul that in my mind I am torn apart from running both ways. Unlike the first, even nature runs backwards from him.
I serve one master as a faithful servant; the other eats at my years, stoking the blaze of his expanding knowledge. I feel as if I stand in between Heaven and Hell, who hold in mutual agreement the fact I serve two masters.
And now the rose cross…under it we stand. Above me, the white wings of the first. Below me, the malefic strings of the second. Both in the promise of paradise…To stand with me in the middle is to promise a paradise lost.
Again with the Rozencreutz. It is difficult for me to write about others, because as we know, it takes one to know one. Lately I've been practising the art of being ambiguous for a variety of reasons, some less pleasant than others. And also, I have been on a symbolism in religion craze, along with various other related themes. Obligatory notes:
Carbon: Taken liberties with the body here, just for the sake of it. Please don't take it as canon... Yr. Loyl. Svt.
A bit of a naturalist: Well, if he insists on being naked most of the time he shows up, naturally it's going to be exploited...
Butler: Living up(?) to his name?
Milton: The one who made us fall head-over-heels for the fallen angel.
Fairness and foulness; nature's fear: Macbeth, anyone?
And again with the Milton...maybe next time I should try Dante?
D.K.