~A Stray Angel Encounters a Wooden Prince~
A single angel wanders the earth. Her light cannot be matched, but what does she know of light? A black cloth binds her sight and robs her of vision. Shapes and colors are a mystery to her.
She was set on a treacherous journey, but all roads feel the same under her feet. A smooth stone path has been laid before her. In the back of her mind, she meditates on this. Why is it smooth and easy to walk upon? She has not stumbled. She has not met any perils. The Angel only walks forward towards an unknown destination.
She stops suddenly. There is an obstacle before her. She stands before it for a short length of time, listening for movement. It walks forward, but its footsteps are foreign to her. The angel is not frightened, however. Her path is still smooth. She knows that she must tread forward, but her curiosity outweighed her duty.
Who would happen to come across her but the crowned Marionette itself? He has been told to be cautious of the beings of this foul world, but the light that the Angel emits has him mesmerized. His strings were loose…the manipulator would have no knowledge of this encounter. He should have listened to his master, but his curiosity outweighed his duty.
"I confess that I have never heard anything quite like you before," said the angel.
"I confess that I have never seen anything quite like you before," said the marionette.
The angel reaches out her hand and touches the marionette's face. Something stirs inside of his hollow body but he does not make a sound. As her fingers trace along his chin to cheek, it leaves a scorched, black trail along his wooden face. For the first time, the marionette feels. There is discomfort caused by the Angel's fingertips, but it is diverting and unlike anything he has experienced before. Her fingers move past his carved ear and temple until they almost brush against the golden crown upon his head. The marionette stops her suddenly by taking her soft hand into his stringed wooden hand. The discomfort that her touch brings is crippling, but the marionette holds her hand firmly.
Then came the tug: the tug of his master on his strings. The Marionette suddenly goes limp and allows the Manipulator to drag him back to his origins. The Angel feels his hand slip from her own, but her hand somehow feels different. She studies her fingers to find strings now on each of her fingertips. The Angel is now connected to the Marionette with a bond that cannot be controlled by the Manipulator.
The Angel takes a step forward to continue her journey, but cries out in pain. She tries to step to the left, to the right, but is still met with pain. Her once smooth path is now littered with sharp, jagged rocks, cutting at her feet and tearing the bottom of her robes.
Even through this pain, she must carry on. The Angel continues her journey, now with misery, but also with hope.