Story: Dawning Radiance

Genre: Dark Fantasy/Romance/Action

Rating: T

Claimer: I own each and every one if the characters in this story, so please do not use them, as they are my babies...enjoy!

It was dark.

That was all that really registered when I first woke up; the utter darkness that surrounded me. After that, it was the fact that I couldn't move; something rough and stiff bound me to what felt like one of our dining room chairs, and I struggled with determination until the bare skin of my arms was rubbed raw and bloody.

I briefly wondered why it was that I couldn't hear anything, but my thought was interrupted when someone grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back and undoing the blindfold that they'd put on me. When the heavy cloth finally fell to the ground I gave a small cry of surprise at the sight before me.

Slumped haphazardly against the wall in front of me was my father, his eyelids fluttering as if he were falling asleep, what I could see of his green eyes was dull, but were barley noticeable because of how dilated his pupils were.

The front of his grey shirt and his jeans were splattered here and there with a dark liquid, the same mixture of reddish purple dripping from the corner of his mouth, down his chin and neck, where it soaked into the torn up fabric of his shirt.

Two people stood on either side of him, one touching her forehead, then chest, then either shoulder before clasping her hands together in what might've been a prayer of some sort.

The other held something that looked like a whip, but had a blade like a knife at the very end, the smirk he wore contrasted the woman's soft frown, though they were both covered in the blood-drug mix, and it stained their once white clothing.

Another harsh pull on my hair made me remember the person behind me, and I tried unsuccessfully to turn my head to see who it was, gave up and watched my dad silently. The woman, apparently finished with her prayer pulled her hands apart and wiped the sticky blood onto the front of her robes, adding to the gore that already stained it.

Opening her brown eyes, she examined me for a moment, as if not knowing what to do with me, before lifting thin fingers and flicking them in my direction.

Suddenly, my hearing returned to me, though the room was still fairly quiet, save for the barely there moans that escaped my fathers lips and my gaze returned to watch him with worry. "It's pointless to worry little one; he will be relieved of his suffering soon" the woman told me gently, following my gaze to where my father's limp figure sat.

I shook my head and pulled weakly against the bonds that held me, impatient with the tears that burned in my eyes, threatening to spill over. But I wouldn't let them, I had to be strong for him, I wouldn't cry if it was going to be the last thing he saw; I wanted him to think I was strong, like he wanted me to be.

The man scoffed at my reaction and lifted his arm, swinging the whip-like weapon in the direction of my father, who was pierced through, blood gushing to the fresh wound and I watched, writhing helplessly in my bonds as his lips opened and a gut wrenching scream pierced my ears, his eyes wide with pain before the blade was savagely whipped back out of soft flesh and he fell forward with a dull thud, blood forming a puddle around his now dead form.

Unable to hold them back any longer, tears flowed down my face as I thrashed and yelled, trying to get there, trying to help him, even though deep down I knew I could do nothing "Dad!" I screamed "Get up Dad!" I yelled over and over again, until a hand from the person behind me connected sharply with the side of my head and I froze in disbelief; no one besides my father had ever dared hit me.

The woman nodded at the person behind me, and I felt something sharp graze my arm before I was released from my bonds, the splintering rope falling to join the blindfold and the blood on the floor.

Flinging myself off of the chair the moment I noticed that I was free, I launched myself over to my father and gripped his shoulder firmly, using all of the strength in my small body to turn him over onto his back.

His eyes were still wide open, but besides the blood and cuts, he actually looked peaceful for once, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, tears mixing with the substances already on him before I became aware of the laughing from behind me.

"It's as if he doesn't even realize he's dead…how sad" a familiar voice from behind me, and I spun around fast to see find the owner of the voice.

Standing in front of me was Night, his chocolate brown hair tousled and messy while his amber colored eyes shone in dark amusement that I could swear I'd seen somewhere before.

I stared in disbelief at who I'd thought was my father's friend, who'd betrayed him in the worst way, and my disbelief turned to anger.

I knew that I had no chance against whatever he was, especially since he was probably two times bigger than me, but I rushed forwards anyways.

Only to be knocked back as if I was nothing but an annoying fly.

The look he was giving me as I pushed myself to my feet and charged at him again was pure amusement, and he took one step forward to meet me, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder, kicking and screaming in protest.

"You know that won't help you boy" he told me as I squirmed in his grip, but I didn't quit, instead opting to fight back even more than I already had been.

Night gave a barely audible sigh and turned his head the slightest bit to look at me "Isaid" he growled, lifting me over his shoulder a little bit "That won't help you boy!" he repeated, dropping me so my stomach landed on his shoulder and the breath was knocked out of me, causing me to go limp with a small yelp of pain.

The woman looked uncomfortable as Night dropped my light frame on the floor near the stairs that led to the kitchen and my only chance at possible freedom. "We were only ordered to get rid of the one human Nigathiel…we should just leave the child be" she reminded him, her voice almost pleading.

It was at that point I realized what it was he had planned for me and looked to the woman, whose eyes locked with mine sympathetically "I don't know, he could grow up and do the same thing as his old man, or maybe he'll try to get revenge and you know how troublesome that would be" Night- or Nigathiel as she had called him- prodded, a feral grin on his sharp, angular face.

The other man nodded, mimicking the grin with a slightly altered one of his own "Yeah, stop being such a softie; the kid's almost as much trouble as his good-for-nothing father" he agreed, moving so he could pin me to the ground with a booted foot.

Shaking her head, the woman knelt beside me and pushed the other mans foot off of me, helping me to sit up with a soft smile. "You can't condemn him for something his father did, that's something a Demon would do!" she exclaimed, pulling me closer "On top of that, he just witnessed his only parent's death! Don't you think he's been through enough for one day?" she pleaded, but was roughly shoved aside by Nigathiel.

He laughed lightly, as if what he was about to do was as simple as picking up groceries "Exactly; he's alone now, so as Angels we should spare him from suffering any further, shouldn't we?" he took a medium sized bottle out of his pocket, filled with a gross looking purple liquid and easily popped the lid off the top before bending down to grab my face and forcing it into my mouth.

I struggled wildly, working to spit it out, but found it difficult because of the way he gripped my face and throat, and most of it ended up going down anyways.

Gagging at the foreign taste invading my mouth, I noted at the back of my mind how odd it was; disgusting and bitter, but alluring and strangely addictive at the same time. The vial was soon empty, and Nigathiel let me go, only to have me stagger and fall back against him, dizziness sweeping over me in relentless waves that forced me to the ground, as if the whole world was on top of me.

Nigathiel pulled away from me with a small noise of disgust, allowing my small body to fall onto the grayish carpet of the basement floor with a dull thump "I can't believe you'd do this to a mere child" I heard the woman accuse harshly. "Maybe you should leave then" Nigathiel told her, and I could just barely see him nod in the direction of the other man followed by a bit of light protest before footsteps sounded up the stairs and I heard the door shut loudly "She's going back to the Path" the other man reported, sounding amused.

They gave a menacing laugh and I felt the tip of a blade kiss the back of my neck and trail down it slowly, tauntingly, but I couldn't find the courage to turn my head and look at the perpetrator, settling instead to press my face closer to the roughly carpeted floor. "I wonder how long he'll last" Nigathiel quipped with amusement and I jumped when a metallic sound reached my ears "I give him a few minutes" the other man replied, snickering darkly.

The first whip was probably what had hurt the most, the blade on the end gleaming silver and red as it sliced gracefully down my back, causing blood to splatter and drip everywhere.

I wondered how long they'd been going; my voice was already gone from all the screaming I'd done, and my body was wracked with so much pain that I couldn't even tell when they hit me anymore.

'Just let me die already!' I pleaded in my mind as a tear slid down my cheek to mix with the blood, and it seemed that my silent prayer had been heard when Nigathiel pulled my face up to look at him. "This will be the final blow" he told me, though at the time I hadn't been entirely sure of what he had said, what with the fact that both my hearing and my eyesight had long since become unreliable.

Never once did my eyes leave his as he lifted the blade-whip above his head and brought it down on me one last time, and I could hear myself give one final cry, followed by the deep, menacing laughter of the man towering in front of my collapsed body before my entire tiny world went black.

It felt almost like I was falling into endless nothingness, and I quickly found that, try as I might, I couldn't move any part of my excruciatingly numb body, and after an exhausting ten minutes of fighting to gain use of it, I gave up and cried until my conscious finally let me slip under.

My eyes vaulted open, and I looked around the small room frantically before looking down at myself to find that, again, it had been nothing more than a dream.

I let a relieved sigh escape my lips before untangling myself from the comforter on the bed and sitting up. Why did I feel as though I was supposed to realize something by reliving that nightmare? I'd had this dream how many times now and I still hadn't noticed it?

Another sigh, a simple rush of air snaked through me and I decided that it must've been nostalgia, figuring it would be for the best if I just pushed that thought to the back of my mind while I was in this holy prison.

Getting out of bed was a bit more difficult than it should've been; dizziness made my head swim violently and I had to sit down a few times before I was able to hold myself up.

Noticing that I'd fallen asleep with my clothes on, I grimaced and opened the door to the bathroom and decided that a shower was exactly what I needed after a night like that, and began to strip.

I stepped into the shower, moving to turn the handle to start the water when an odd thought crossed my mind; hadn't the humans used a shower of some sort to kill people during one of their childish wars? By gas or something of the like?

Biting my lip, I examined the shower head accusingly, but realized that I was probably just being paranoid.

Hesitating slightly, I turned the handle and was admittedly relieved when water came spraying out; I mentally kicked myself for thinking they'd take the time to rig the thing in the first place and gratefully took my shower.

After my shower I found myself standing in front of the steamy mirror, grudgingly staring at the gash that marked my shoulder. It hadn't even begun to close up yet; it wasn't bleeding or anything, but in the week since I'd gotten it, I'd never once seen it even begin to scab over.

My thoughts were interrupted by a light knocking on the door "Breakfast" I heard Valshe mutter before hearing the door leaving the room open and shut loudly.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror once more before draping a damp towel over my shoulders and shaking my head, sending droplets of water splashing onto the marble countertop. I hadn't thought that what I'd done would've upset her so much, it's not like I'd kept it from her to hurt her or anything.

Heaving one last big sigh, I pulled my shirt -now freshly washed- over my head before shoving the door open and heading out of the bathroom, then the bedroom, bracing myself for another heavenly dinner downstairs.

A/N: Alright, so I'm getting really bad about posting on here lately, but my life is kinda going to crap right now, so I'll try to update as soon as I can okay? Also, you guys don't have to read the next chapter if you don't want, as I'm trying something new. The next 'chapter' that's going to be put up here is going to be in Valshes POV and is essentially her take on whats been happening so far, so like I said, you can read it, or you can skip it, but I'm going to include a few things that Valshe knows or learns that you wouldn't otherwise hear in Xanders POV until later. Until next time, read, review, and join the fight against difficulties plaguing the lives of people everywhere!