This is a oneshot I wrote during my actual mock exam paper, so I am typing this from an English exam paper lol. On the plus side, I got 32/40 marks for it, so it shouldn't be that bad!
Story of the post – Cast Out Of Hell by Breakable Dolls. It's a Blue Exorcist oneshot about Rin having angelic, not demonic, heritage and it's really good. You should try it!
I DO NOT OWN THE INFERNAL DEVICES.
Warning for sad death.
So, on with the story!
THE DEPARTURE OF WILLIAM HERONDALE
He had lived a long life.
Over time, many laughed at his luck, joking that he must have been blessed by an angel. He had shrugged the rumors off without a second thought, but as he lay dying, he began to wonder…
When he had finally told Tessa of his feelings, and lay with her that night, hadn't he dreamt of an angel? Beautiful and deadly, wreathed with holy flame, they had glowed.
In his dream, the angel had touched his shoulder. When he woke up, there had been a shimmering scar, star-like in appearance, that seemed to have been cut (burnt, his subconscious whispered) into his shoulder.
And indeed, his life had been blessed. When he had been poisoned, lying on the floor in agony, his wife had found him.
As he lay in his bed recovering, the Silent Brothers had expressed their bafflement over his condition.
He should be dead, they had 'said'. Yet the poison has almost burnt itself from his body.
Burnt.
Again, the angel had watched over him.
Throughout his life, he had felt a being's comforting presence hanging over his shoulder, reassuring him that all was not lost when he was cursed, rejoicing with him when it was broken, laying a happy hand upon his shoulder at his wedding, and calming him at the birth of his children.
As he lay dying, William Herondale could finally put a name to that presence.
"Ithuriel," he breathed, almost inaudibly, the whisper dying before it left his mouth.
Yet he came.
A grave figure, wreathed in the same holy fire that he had seen so long ago, yet he remembered as though it were yesterday.
His brother found them like that.
Him, laying in bed with his wife, gazing at an angel only he could see standing vigil at his deathbed, and the unseen angel gazing back.
Slowly, his brother picked up the violin that they had always kept read for him. And he played.
He played his brother's life.
And as he played, the angel sang along, weaving an additional melody of their presence that only he could hear.
The song ended, but still the angel sang as his brother took his hand and said:
I take your hand now, brother, so that you may go in peace.
Surrounded by his wife and his brother, an angel standing guard, he died with a smile on his face.
-THE END-