How about I tell you of a story of lovers who were tethered together by destiny itself? Whose time had not yet come and yet they meet? How about a story perhaps involving tragedy and romance? Everyone loves a good tragedy, especially with a couple who cannot be. Yes, I will tell you the story of the man who fell for an angel, and in turn the angel fell for him too.
It started in a place that was so very far away. To even get near there, one would have to journey across countless stormy seas and deserts where water seems to be a thing that one exists in legends. It takes place in such a time so very long ago that not even my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great…well there would have to be a lot of greats to even get close to the time period. In this time where fires still lit the night's way and the only way to travel was by foot or by horse.
It takes place in the times of witches, brave knights, angels and where monsters crept through the shadows of night. Of people who feared the passing of time, of the different and the change. Now in the times of the present many historians would say that there was no such thing as witches and most certainly not angels. There is anyways a scientific solution isn't there? That is surely not the case in everything. Fools, the lot of them. Not even people today would properly admit to it. Those that would even consider doing so would choose not to cast them in this light.
Thankfully I am not most people. It is an unpopular fact that yes; angels did exist at one point in time. In the legends of old angels were celestial beings of great power, of knowledge that many of us would struggle to even conceive. In popular beliefs of today, angels were for the greater good. However, in our tale it seems that it is not the case.
In many years back into the past angels were thought to be creatures of lies and death. It was a widely accepted belief that they killed innocents, that they caused a great war, and that they should all be purified by humanities righteous flames. As we have inherited the Earth so we shall too be able to punish those who commit acts of war on our home lands.
In the time of our story it was a common occurrence that Angels would be burned at the stake with blessed oils to make sure they would be cleansed of the corrupted poisons that lurked in their very being. I cannot even imagine how many had been purified in such a way.
These barbaric hunts seemed to steam from a single and horrific event. This large event steamed from a rather long-range of a domino effect. These incidents of brutish violence are not all from a single side, but all caused tension and hatred to grow and fester. From this there had been only outcome that was inevitable.
A Great War swept across the land, a land. A mighty land we shall call Lavathyn. A war against humans, angels, witches and freakish things in the night. It ravaged much of the countryside's and left scars that had faded away into mere lore. A great purge left all angels revolted by the acts of humanity. They left and only so very few remained.
Once the war had ended in that time so long ago there were only humans, a sparse amount of witches, and the angels who could no longer leave Earth, the Fallen. The race of angels left weaker than the rest and easily capture by man as well. It seems fate is not kind to those to rebel against its wishes and that is precisely what these beings of once great power had done.
Now that I've it least explained some of this world's history so you won't be trailing after this desperately it is time you met someone. Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to our protagonist, a Fallen whose life and vision was taken as punishment for his rebellion. Let me take you to the land called Lavathyn, more specifically a place called Pluvia Wood. It was a place that was rather murky and proved rather difficult to settle for normal beings. Thankfully the only residents are beasts and the few Fallen who live there.
Let it never be said that Fallen were not completely faultless. A small few caused the suffering of many. It was unfortunate that the many were fated to suffer for the sins of the few. Really though, Pluvia Wood was a relatively safe place for Fallen.
But I've begun to lose myself in the history of this rather fascinating time. You really must stop me next time, yes? That would have to be enough of a history lesson for now even though I do enjoy educating the otherwise not at all knowledgeable on such things. If I am to continue we would be here all day! If we did that then how would you know what happens in the story? Ah! Again, I've started. I really do suppose that is enough of the tireless droning of a wordsmith.
For now, an important fact that you must remember is you must never judge a book by its cover.
I will be your guide as I take you through the trials of a knight and his angel.
Our story starts in a small cottage in the Pluvia Wood where a blue eyed Fallen with unseeing eyes worriedly awaits the return of his brother...
A light brown coat contrasted with a soft shade of green. A single dozing form lay in the middle of a small clearing, disturbed only slightly by grass that sprinkled his clothes and hair. The greenery looked sickly, the plague that seemed to ail the other trees. The dense brush of Pluvia Woods surrounded him, except for a single structure.
It was a simple looking cottage of soft brown shades. The building, although standing sturdily, murmured the times of many years where it had endured the harsh elements. Random patches of brown littered the edges of the clearing like mismatched patchwork. The distance sound of a babbling brook could be heard through the foliage.
The distance sound of numerous species of birds twittering brought the resting figure, Castiel, into a gently waking state. A frigid breeze brushed over and past him, rustling leaves and grass as it went. He shivered and frowned slightly. Castiel hesitantly peeled open his eyes. A cloudy pair of eyes tried to meet the sights of the world to no avail. Castiel sighed quietly and brushed himself off. "It appears that summer will be short this year." He muttered forlornly as he stood.
Castiel stretched with a soft groan out and started walking leisurely towards the cottage. Soon his small frown was replaced with a soft and very small smile. As he got closer to the cottage he reacted with instinct. Castiel reached out with his grace to find his way, to look if his brother had returned from an errand he had taken to doing yesterday. He couldn't stop the clench of worry in his chest upon not sensing his brother. It was completely justified though.
A stranger, a human, had stumbled into their land. According to the stranger he had been lost for a few days. The boy had certainly looked it, clothes torn and messy. His brother was uncomfortable with his presence initially but the boy, Adam had taken to Castiel and his brother quite easily.
Castiel could admit that he liked Adam's company. But no matter how fond Castiel was of the young man, there was no way he could stay for long. It would only put them in jeopardy of being discovered that they were Fallen. It was literally a death sentence if that had ever happened. Castiel didn't wish for death. He could only hope that Death would not want him nor his brother.
His brother however, had refused to let Adam leave by himself. It was with great reluctance that Castiel allowed his brother and Adam to depart. It was yesterday and the woods were easy to get lost in. Of course Castiel and his brother knew the woods, he still worried. There were plenty of creatures that could easily tear through a fully grown man. The Fallen were not to be as weak as man though. Castiel just hoped that his brother would not be forced to reveal himself.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't troubled. But he was a smart person, despite being a Fallen. As good as he was though if it was just Castiel he would be overwhelmed with the duties of their lives. Castiel sighed, entering the cottage, dodging furniture as he went. The inside of the home was modest and warm. It smelled faintly of rosemary.
Castiel wandered into what resembled a kitchen. He started feeling his way through the cupboards. He frowned when he checked the amount of edible mushrooms left. His brother enjoyed them in soup. Castiel often found himself retrieving more it least once a week. "It is no wonder that we run out so quickly." Castiel fetched a small basket. "Samandriel will be alright." He assured himself before exiting the house.
A feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if it had to do with his brother or not.
Castiel allowed his grace to seep into the surrounding vegetation, becoming in tune with the land around him. He was extremely careful over which mushroom he picked. Castiel was more than grateful he was not one of the Fallen whom lost all their grace. Without his grace he would be a mere human, a mortal with celestial knowledge. Castiel shook his head. Without his grace, Castiel would not be able to act as well as he did. He already felt a measurement of longing for the abundant power, the feeling of being complete. It had been far too long for Castiel to feel such a way.
He felt the basket, half full.
Suddenly, a spike of pain filtered into his mind and system. He flinched at the unexpected sensation. He recoiled from his connection. Another resident of Pluvia Wood must've caused a imbalance in the natural environment. Hesitantly he reached forward again. It had come from where his come was.
Castiel's stomach dropped. He stood and hastily took off in the general direction of his home. It was possible that Samandriel had accidentally led some witches back to their home. In his haste Castiel would occasionally stumble over the rotten roots stretching out of the ground.
He burst into the clearly, his breathing quick. At that moment Castiel didn't need his sight to know what lay before him. He could feel the heat from where he was, he could feel the ink black poison of witches and their servants. Castiel didn't pause to think as his grace reached out, searching desperately for Samandriel's own familiar warmth.
Castiel's stomach twisted violently and his head felt light. His grace spread further and further out, a desperate twinge now. He didn't notice his breath hitching and quickening with each passing second. It was all focused on Samandriel and the hint of loss creeping into his heart. His home was far beyond saving.
He was only greeted with the sinfully corrupt intentions of the creatures before him, far too many for him to defend against. Luck was not on his side as one turned slowly towards the former angel. His grace, radiant compared to their own tainted power oozing from their very core.
Castiel didn't need to be told that he had to escape but panic for his beloved brother clouded his senses. The flames from his engulfed house spread to the trees around. The dry and unhealthy trees around aided in the rapid spreading of the inferno.
In his haze of shock he only took notice of the advancing witches when they were a few yards away. "A Fallen, brothers, sisters, we shall have fun. Shall we not?" All wore identical smiles of sadistic maliciousness.
With their words spoken the spell detached distress broke. Sorrow with a hint of fear engulfed in his mind. Castiel finally moved away, cautious and slow. When they lunged, Castiel flew back.
Run, run, run, run, run, run, and run. And he did. With each short breath more and more smoke filtered through his lungs. All around, he could feel their corrupt desires closing in. The fires ran rampant, aided by the witches no doubt.
The heat was approaching unbearable. Everywhere the Fallen had turned he would meet the corrupt or the hungry flames. He was sure he looked a fright, the corners of his long coat was probably burnt. It was by some miracle that Castiel didn't perish the inferno.
Castiel could not go on forever however, his grace lighting his way through the thicket but not helping his body beyond mimicking sight.
It was only after he crossed a small stream that he slowed. It was not by choice. The world around him was dulled by the adrenaline and dissipating panic. Exhaustion screamed at him, his breathing didn't even out but remained labored and harsh sounding to his own ears. It wasn't long before he fell against a tree for support. He slid down against the tree; he could still feel the faint desires of the lost creatures. They were too far off for Castiel to be worried.
He could only think the worst considering Samandriel's fate. His home was lost, as was his brother. Castiel's head lolled as sleep beckoned to him alluringly.
A logical part told him to get up and get moving. This was not safe. Fatigue won out in the end and Castiel's body slowly sagged against the ground and tree. The far off sound of inhuman screeching and hoof's pounding followed him into the blissful state of unconsciousness.
Castiel did not stir as a being cast a shadow over his unresponsive form. He didn't even twitch as a hand brushed his shoulder.
That's just the prologue. This idea's been bouncing around my head for a while by this point in time. I don't own anything but my own ideas. Reviews would be appreciated but not needed I guess. I was listening to some songs and this came up.
I thank you for reading and I hope you have a pleasant day/afternoon/evening/morning.