Puzzle of Shadows

For centuries he kept his heart shielded. As a young angel, he was subjected to the worst torture that eternity could give: being alone. He'd been alive for over seven hundred years, and for one of those centuries he'd been subjected to absolute solitude. In that time, he'd forgotten what it was to feel, to speak, to read, to feel alive. He'd forgotten what it was to have family, friends, or even simple contact with other sentient beings. He'd been inhuman during those years, unable to read or speak. He'd been unable to fly from his home, and when he finally had, the flood of people, humans and angels, had overwhelmed him. He'd become detached, looking on as a shadow simply to escape the tumultuous, terrifying roar that civilization brought to him. When the Archangel he would swear his loyalty appeared to him in that field watered with blood, he felt a tiny part of him- a part of him that had been scattered in the wind, that had sunk with his father, been buried with his mother- piece back together. The puzzle that was him was slowly being put together to form a broken angel of the shadows with wings of sooty black. Parts of him that had been lost for decades were being returned. He had been birthed on a warm tropical island which became his isolated prison. In the end, what had once been his home had ripped him apart. With the appearance of that Archangel with eyes of impossible blue and wings of gold-dusted white, that inhuman, detached part of him began to recede. He peeked out of the shadows and into the light that only an Archangel could hold.

Through the proceeding centuries, he was pieced back together, regaining parts of him that he had believed lost. He relearned how to read through the kindhearted angelic teacher bound to the ground. He regained his voice which he'd long lost- a voice would rise in heartbreaking song, song that could bring even the most cold-hearted to tears. Even as he grew, evolved into something closer to angel than what he had been, he remained in the shadows. He could never truly bring himself to step away from the comforting darkness and into the harsh light. So, he remained a spectator, watching from the shadows, engulfing himself in the hidden world. Though he lost some of his detachment, he could never truly lose it. To remind himself that he was still alive, he had his face marked with swirls of black ink, the pain of the needle reviving him while it lasted. That method only lasted so long, and eventually faded away to a barely noticeable ache. He was able to return to the world through absolute loyalty, but even that could not keep him grounded. There was a part of him leftover from that young angel, terrified and alone, that was broken and lost- a part that could never be retrieved. Even after six centuries in servitude of the Archangel of New York, his puzzle was not near complete. He had been torn apart into so many pieces on the island that was once his home that some of them were truly lost. It was because of this that he had made the one he swore his loyalty to make him a promise. Even now, centuries later, he could hear that promise echoing in his mind. It was one made in the midst of utter detachment, and one that he desperately hope the Archangel would hold to. 'I was not... formed correctly. Part of me is damaged and may one day shatter. When it does, I ask that you execute me cleanly rather than allow me to erode from the inside out.' His own words echoed in his mind throughout the eternity he had to live.

The promise weighed heavily on both him and the Archangel throughout the centuries. Somehow, the union of one whom he trusted and his reincarnated wife led to the nullification of that promise. A princess with eyes of amber gold and wings of peacock plumage was the one to make him nearly whole again. Her life should have made her as broken as him, yet she looked forwards with hope. She fought against her torture with love that she had never been allowed to share- love that she bestowed on a broken puzzle made of shadow. Though she understood that she would give her love and not receive, she stayed beside him. She gently led him into the light- not the harsh light he had always seen and feared, but a gentle, warm light that accepted the shadows he resided in. With her, his detachment faded away completely. With her, his song was awoken and released. The promise that weighed so heavily on him and the Archangel it was bestowed upon was lifted. The princess with the warm amber eyes was the one to save him, to rebuild him and piece him together until he was as whole as he could get. She awoke within him his song, and his humanity, helped him into the light, and accepted him. She grounded him to the world more than absolute loyalty ever could.

The angel who lived in the shadows was called Jason. He was a shattered and broken puzzle whose pieces seemed lost forever until Raphael, the Archangel with the impossible blue eyes began to rebuild him. A puzzle made of shadows is hard to rebuild, particularly when his pieces are lost to the swamp, the earth, and the sky. It cannot truly be put together with someone who comes from the harsh light. Mahiya, the princess with the peacock wings came from both the shadows and the light, and it was her who was able to gently coax her shadow puzzle into the light as she found the missing pieces and fit them to form a broken angel with wings of sooty black.