Three Wings
By ElemenTalia
Beta'd by
Disclaimer: I do not own D.N. Angel in any way, though I dearly want to.
Summery: Sometimes incidents can be so misunderstood. At least, in this case, the poor clod ended up happy. A story told from the view of a humble monk. Mentions of religion, and an Oc.
Authors Note: If you feel insulted, don't flame me. You are the one who is choosing to read this. I wrote this because I thought it would be a good story. You don't like it? Tough, because I don't care.
The soul at its highest is found like God, but an angel gives a closer idea of Him. That is all an angel is: an idea of God.
~Meister Eckhart
We trust in plumed procession
For such the angels go -
Rank after Rank, with even feet -
And uniforms of Snow.
~Emily Dickinson
I am Yuzen, a Christian monk. I am of no great importance; my mission is merely to spread the glory of our dear Lord, Christ, to the people of Japan. It is a worthy goal, and difficult indeed. I'm in charge of keeping a monastery, (more of a chapel really), clean and well visited by those seeking the faith.
Today is a wonderful day, one of my favorites in my humble opinion. What day is this? Why, I was wondering if you would ask. You see, today is the 16, and yesterday was November 15; the start of the season of Advent. It is a great and wonderful day, a day of miracles, and a day of joy, as well as a representation of the start of the Christian year. I admit, that's the reason why it's one of my favorite days. It is, after all, a day of miracles.
You see, I'm just a lowly monk. I believe with all my heart of the greatness of this gospel, yet I have never had the opportunity to witness a great miracle, as others have. While I am content that I know of my Lords glory, I still wish that I could view more of his wondrous powers.
No, I must cleanse myself of these thoughts, they are impure and not befitting a leader of the church, even if I am one of the lesser members. I shake my head, banishing those thoughts from my mind. I am a servant of my Lord Jesus Christ, I have dedicated my life to Him, and I must think of nothing more then assisting Him in His work.
Nevertheless, because of my loyalty, the Lord decided to bless me with an amazing vision, a vision I had the honor of witnessing late last night, on the first day of the season of Advent.
It is my job to clean the stained glass windows before I sleep in preparation for the next day. It was then, late at night on the 15th of November, that I witnessed the miracle.
I had been walking silently to the front glass window when I heard a noise out front. I immediately frowned; I was under the impression that hooligans were once again trying to break into the chapel. I had shuffled forward, tired, when I peaked out from behind the pillar, and saw it.
I froze, the cloth slipping through my lifeless fingers. Angels. I saw… Angels…. I staggered to the side, in too much shock to stay standing straight on my own. I was seeing real angels… Joy filled my body, and I prepared to shout praises, when I suddenly noticed something. One of them had, black wings?
I furrowed my eyebrows, and stepped forward, still behind a pillar, so that I could see better. Perhaps my Lord wanted me to witness this, and not show the angels that I could see them. Perhaps that was it.
The three angels, or rather, (two angels and one fallen angel as it appeared to be), seemed to be in some conflict of some kind. How strange. I had been under the impression that there was total peace in Heaven. Perhaps this was just because one of them was a fallen angel.
I finally managed to get into a good position to see them. One of them was… a girl? And the fallen angel had purple hair? How strange.
The female angel was beautiful, with powerful, yet somehow fragile white wings. Long, curly brown hair fell in a river down her back, and from my position I could see beautiful brown eyes on a delicately boned face. She wore a white dress, and on her back, below her wings, was strapped a slender yew bow, and a quiver of elegantly crafted arrows. I noticed along her hip a white pouch, a pouch I recognized monks and Sisters carrying with them often. It was an herb pouch, a specially constructed pouch that carried herbs of healing. I myself carry one, filled with medicines, bandages, and vials full of ready-made medicine. How interesting that she, an angel would carry one.
The other angel stood in front of her, wings spread in a protective, and somehow possessive motion. He, like the woman, wore white, though his was trimmed in gold. A shoulder cloak covered his upper body, and I noticed, in interest, a cross holding it together. Predatory amber eyes stared at his opponent through long gold hair.
His opponent was different from the two, however. He wore a black, sleeveless shirt trimmed in white, (something that confused me, until I decided that it was in memory of his lost state as a holy angel), and baggy pants. With spiky purple hair, violet eyes, and charcoal wings, I was brought to mind of the image of the angel of death. The fallen angels' statement verified that.
"Move, Krad. I have business waiting past you, and a certain job to pick up." His voice was unusually husky for a male, and I was instantly glad that it was I witnessing this, and not some of the younger nuns. The dear sisters do try so hard, yet I am sure that they would not be able to resist him at all.
The male angel, Krad, narrowed his eyes. "I refuse. You will not take any from the church, Dark, I will not allow it!"
Dark smirked lewdly. "Who said I was going for the church? My precious Dovesary is a wonderful replacement, and she's waiting for me, shielded from my sight by your scrawny wings. I'm sure that she's just waiting to be rescued from your dry and boring presence."
Blocked from her view, though seen clearly by myself and Krad, Dark quietly added a crude statement about what he would do to her. A heavy blush stained my cheeks instantly at the sight. How, crude! The Angel of Death was like this?
Krad gave a scream of rage, before immediately throwing balls of power at his enemy. Silently I cheered him on. As the two males fought, (something that I found almost impossible to remove my eyes from), the beautiful woman, Dovesary, sighed in almost irritation. Leisurely she pulled her bow free from off her back, and drew an arrow. Taking flight, she hovered, waiting for the right moment.
As she aimed the bow and waited, I battled within myself. Yes, it was a fallen angel, but should the messengers of God really be attacking and killing the enemy? I remained indecisive. Should I shout? Or should I stay silent? Surely this was a test!
Right as I was deciding to shout, the women saw her opening as the two charged each other. She pulled back a little bit further on the arrow and released; the glowing instrument of death hissing through the air. The arrow struck the ground between the two warriors.
Boom!
The ground exploded, and the two males were thrown away from each other. She replaced her bow to its position and carefully fluttered forward. Carefully, delicately, she reached forward and removed the, somehow indestructible arrow back in her quiver.
By this time, the males started to move again. Noticing this, she plucked two feathers from her wings, and threw them up on the air. The males froze, seemingly unable to move.
Dovesary waved her finger at the two of them. "Now this is enough." Her voice was pure and strong, much like the rushing of a brook. "You two promised that you would try to avoid fighting in front of me." She massaged the bridge on her nose, an action that somehow made her almost human.
Her keen eyes spotted blood dripping to the ground from a wound on Darks shoulder, and another one of Krads arm. She threw up her arms in frustration. "And now look, both of you are injured. I swear, males! Is it some pride thing?" She opened her pouch and started towards Dark, medicine and bandages in hand.
The feathers that bound their movements did not bind their speech, and Krad protested. "He is a thief! He does not deserve your attention!" He was silenced with a quick glare on his fellow angels' part.
"Really, you two need to stop fighting. One day you are going to kill each other!" Krad looked away in anger, and, as he was near to my position, I could hear him mumble something about that being his intentions. I covered my smile. A feud between angels! How interesting! And human!
Dovesary finished treating Darks shoulder wound. She gave it one last tug, satisfied. "There. You're done." She plucked the floating feather that was somehow binding him to his spot, obviously releasing the spell.
Once free, Dark swooped down, and gave her a long burning kiss. She swooned slightly, and I could see the victory shining in his eyes. "Thank you, my little Dove. Your healing is impeccable, as always." he mumbled against her lips.
Krad began cursing at him, railing at him for the kiss. Finally Dark pulled back, staying only to steady the shocked female clutching onto his form. A bright blush covered her face, something that Dark noticed with a masculine smirk. He gave a negligent wave. "I'll see you later, my Dove!" His eyes flashed to Krad, and the smirk widened. "Hopefully, next time I will have more of a chance to enjoy," he drew out the word, "your flowery presence." With a simple flap of his wings and an amused laugh, the fallen angel, Dark, vanished into the night.
Krad was silent, an angry glower and a snarl on his face. Dove pulled herself back together and released her brother, finally attending to his wounds. She looked up, finally finished. "So what made you so angry this time? Normally you would not be angered by what he said. What did he say separate to you? And what did he mean with the last part?" She gazed at him in confusion, her innocence shining brightly.
The older male gazed at her, an odd expression in his eyes and a slight flush on his face. Finally he patted her head, trailing the strands of hair between his fingers, before standing up slowly. "I'll tell you in a hundred years or so." With a strong beat of his wings, he was airborne.
She looked shocked. "Krad? Krad? What do you mean?" She joined him in the air, following him closely. "What's going on? Krad?"
"Let's go home."
"That's not a proper answer! What's going on?"
Their voices faded away, and I found the strength to stagger forward. I had seen a vision! A broad smile covered my face, and I stood up before running to my office to write an account of what I had seen.
So now you see what a miraculous vision that I saw? I sent the account to the Pope, and now I am off to share a greater understanding of the miraculous gospel. It is my mission, after all. I would not have seen a vision of angels had I not been destined to play a great part in my Gods work!
I was protected from the angel of death, and now I must go travel the world, spreading the gospel in return for the life that I was given. Glory be Heaven! Amen.
The last account of the Monk Yuzen, before he vanished into the foreign territories, never to be contacted by the church again, though it is rumored that he converted thousands in his travels before his death at the age of 86.