Post by Scarlet Storm on Jun 22, 2020 23:07:39 GMT -5
Aerial sat alone, seemingly staring at the wall, though it would have been hard for a casual observer to tell with her shades in the way. She perched cross-legged on the bed, her wings folded neatly behind her. In reality, her eyes were closed as she sent her consciousness up and out…
Suddenly, with a familiar wrench, she was no longer in her own body. Her consciousness stood in a beautiful mountain valley, beside a clear, meandering river. What appeared to be a small town straddled the river, each building of gleaming white marble, each bridge a soaring arc over the river. A golden road led straight along the river to the center of town, where a massive building, also created from marble, dominated the view.
It was to this building her spirit flew, misty feathers extended behind her. She hovered over the courtyard before the building’s entrance for a moment, taking in the beautiful, many-hued gardens that no human gardener could ever produce. She landed between two flowerbeds, her ethereal, booted feet looking harshly black on the golden stones. With a frown, she entered the building.
The interior, also made of marble, gleamed in the light of what seemed to be millions of candles. Great pillars lined the entrance hall, and a soft, golden carpet ran the length of the great room. At the end, predictably, sat God, this time in the form of a golden-haired young boy, perched on a marble throne. He was massive, filling the giant chair, and he looked serene. As Aerial approached the throne, the deity’s expression cleared, and their eyes, filled with stars, as always, centered on the half-Angel.
“You come to me full of uncertainty, child. Why?” His fluting, childlike voice filled the chamber.
“I have...run into the Adversary, Lord. He has said a great many things, and I have come to verify his words.”
The child-like visage shifted, now God was an elderly man with a great white beard and long, snowy hair. His voice changed to reflect his appearance. “Truly, hast thou spoken with Lucifer Morningstar?” The powerful voice echoed slightly.
“I have, Lord. He told me…” She trailed off, not wanting to sound stupid before God.
His tone was gentler as he asked her, “What did he say, daughter?”
“He said he was acting on orders in the Garden of Eden. That you told him to bring Knowledge to Adam and Eve.”
“He speaks the truth. Had they spent too long in my Garden, my children would never have become self-sufficient.” The deity’s voice was faintly regretful. “I could not bring myself to cast them out for no reason...so I set them a test. They failed.”
“But Lord...did the Deceiver then leave you on his own accord?” Pain and uncertainty mingled in her tone.
“He did. He asked so many questions. He would not accept MY words. And then he chose to leave.”
“Why is it so wrong to ask questions, Lord? How could Your Children be self-sufficient if they never learned to think for themselves?”
“You have spent too much time with mine Adversary, Aerial.”
“Will you not answer my question?”
“I will not. Accept or question, Aerial. The choice is thine.”
Wordlessly, Aerial spread misty wings and flew from the temple, doubt making her heart heavy. She thrust herself away from her God, ghostly tears falling behind her. She drew herself down and in...and opened her eyes.
With a soft, metallic clink, her halo fell to the wood floor, its glow extinguished. She spread her hands, and touched feathers white as snow, salting the black-and-blue comforter. A quick glance in the mirror told her all she needed to know.
======
Down and out...Aerial found the same method of travel worked regardless of which side she was on. She found herself standing beside a stream, this time of lava, running between two stark, stony shores. She walked, this time, as her destination was obvious, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
Along the way, she passed demons and souls, engaged in various activities, none of which remotely involved torment. A few times their actions caused her to blush and look away. No, this was not the Hell she had thought she would find.
As she stepped into a town much like God’s, and yet so vastly different (the buildings were of black obsidian and seemed...wrong, somehow) the wide stone street kept its straight path up to a temple that, in another world, might have been considered beautiful. The polished obsidian structure gleamed in the reddish, hazy ambient light that filtered through this world. There were no guards.
He didn’t need them.
She stopped before the temple of Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, and frowned. Already she had been surprised several times. She supposed this would continue. Shoving spiritual hands into imaginary pockets, she strode forward into his hall.
Like God’s, the Devil’s hall was long, carpeted, and well-lit. That was where the comparison ended. The plush carpet that lined the ebon-flagged hall was brightest red and did not show the sooty footprints Aerial expected. She stepped down the torchlit hall toward the basalt throne. He sat in it, normal-sized and dwarfed by the massive structure. His golden hair gleamed in the light, and a slight smile touched his very human-looking face.
“Aerial. You’ve changed.” A slightly sarcastic humor graced his voice.
“Luce.” Her tone was tight, clipped, and still full of pain as she mourned the loss of the divine.
“Need a job?”
“Yeh.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not all bad. We have fun down here. And the red on your wings is a lovely color.” He tried to lighten her mood, but it wasn’t working.
“I am a warrior with no sword, Lucifer. I blame you.”
“Blame, blame. You always do. Well. You’ll come around.” He smiled, then, his pearly teeth glinting in the light. He snapped his fingers, and a massive iron sword with ancient symbols etched in fire along the blade appeared in the air before her. “Take up my sword, Aerial.”
Seeing no choice, she reached for the blade. Fascinating...the grip could’ve been made for her (relatively small) hands. She lifted the blade over her head, nodded once, and sheathed the weapon in the scabbard that appeared on her back.
“I will gift you armor, too, to protect you. I am not heartless.” She looked down and found herself encased in black armor that closely resembled the white plates she had worn not long ago.
The half-fallen-angel nodded. “What is thy bidding?”
“Must we be so formal? Dammit, Aerial, I’m not your Master. I’m your friend.”
“That remains to be seen.” She sighed, then. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Keep on as you are. Encourage people to see many paths. Keep fighting the good fight.”
“Very well.” She closed her eyes, and drew her spirit up and in.
Suddenly, with a familiar wrench, she was no longer in her own body. Her consciousness stood in a beautiful mountain valley, beside a clear, meandering river. What appeared to be a small town straddled the river, each building of gleaming white marble, each bridge a soaring arc over the river. A golden road led straight along the river to the center of town, where a massive building, also created from marble, dominated the view.
It was to this building her spirit flew, misty feathers extended behind her. She hovered over the courtyard before the building’s entrance for a moment, taking in the beautiful, many-hued gardens that no human gardener could ever produce. She landed between two flowerbeds, her ethereal, booted feet looking harshly black on the golden stones. With a frown, she entered the building.
The interior, also made of marble, gleamed in the light of what seemed to be millions of candles. Great pillars lined the entrance hall, and a soft, golden carpet ran the length of the great room. At the end, predictably, sat God, this time in the form of a golden-haired young boy, perched on a marble throne. He was massive, filling the giant chair, and he looked serene. As Aerial approached the throne, the deity’s expression cleared, and their eyes, filled with stars, as always, centered on the half-Angel.
“You come to me full of uncertainty, child. Why?” His fluting, childlike voice filled the chamber.
“I have...run into the Adversary, Lord. He has said a great many things, and I have come to verify his words.”
The child-like visage shifted, now God was an elderly man with a great white beard and long, snowy hair. His voice changed to reflect his appearance. “Truly, hast thou spoken with Lucifer Morningstar?” The powerful voice echoed slightly.
“I have, Lord. He told me…” She trailed off, not wanting to sound stupid before God.
His tone was gentler as he asked her, “What did he say, daughter?”
“He said he was acting on orders in the Garden of Eden. That you told him to bring Knowledge to Adam and Eve.”
“He speaks the truth. Had they spent too long in my Garden, my children would never have become self-sufficient.” The deity’s voice was faintly regretful. “I could not bring myself to cast them out for no reason...so I set them a test. They failed.”
“But Lord...did the Deceiver then leave you on his own accord?” Pain and uncertainty mingled in her tone.
“He did. He asked so many questions. He would not accept MY words. And then he chose to leave.”
“Why is it so wrong to ask questions, Lord? How could Your Children be self-sufficient if they never learned to think for themselves?”
“You have spent too much time with mine Adversary, Aerial.”
“Will you not answer my question?”
“I will not. Accept or question, Aerial. The choice is thine.”
Wordlessly, Aerial spread misty wings and flew from the temple, doubt making her heart heavy. She thrust herself away from her God, ghostly tears falling behind her. She drew herself down and in...and opened her eyes.
With a soft, metallic clink, her halo fell to the wood floor, its glow extinguished. She spread her hands, and touched feathers white as snow, salting the black-and-blue comforter. A quick glance in the mirror told her all she needed to know.
======
Down and out...Aerial found the same method of travel worked regardless of which side she was on. She found herself standing beside a stream, this time of lava, running between two stark, stony shores. She walked, this time, as her destination was obvious, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
Along the way, she passed demons and souls, engaged in various activities, none of which remotely involved torment. A few times their actions caused her to blush and look away. No, this was not the Hell she had thought she would find.
As she stepped into a town much like God’s, and yet so vastly different (the buildings were of black obsidian and seemed...wrong, somehow) the wide stone street kept its straight path up to a temple that, in another world, might have been considered beautiful. The polished obsidian structure gleamed in the reddish, hazy ambient light that filtered through this world. There were no guards.
He didn’t need them.
She stopped before the temple of Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, and frowned. Already she had been surprised several times. She supposed this would continue. Shoving spiritual hands into imaginary pockets, she strode forward into his hall.
Like God’s, the Devil’s hall was long, carpeted, and well-lit. That was where the comparison ended. The plush carpet that lined the ebon-flagged hall was brightest red and did not show the sooty footprints Aerial expected. She stepped down the torchlit hall toward the basalt throne. He sat in it, normal-sized and dwarfed by the massive structure. His golden hair gleamed in the light, and a slight smile touched his very human-looking face.
“Aerial. You’ve changed.” A slightly sarcastic humor graced his voice.
“Luce.” Her tone was tight, clipped, and still full of pain as she mourned the loss of the divine.
“Need a job?”
“Yeh.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not all bad. We have fun down here. And the red on your wings is a lovely color.” He tried to lighten her mood, but it wasn’t working.
“I am a warrior with no sword, Lucifer. I blame you.”
“Blame, blame. You always do. Well. You’ll come around.” He smiled, then, his pearly teeth glinting in the light. He snapped his fingers, and a massive iron sword with ancient symbols etched in fire along the blade appeared in the air before her. “Take up my sword, Aerial.”
Seeing no choice, she reached for the blade. Fascinating...the grip could’ve been made for her (relatively small) hands. She lifted the blade over her head, nodded once, and sheathed the weapon in the scabbard that appeared on her back.
“I will gift you armor, too, to protect you. I am not heartless.” She looked down and found herself encased in black armor that closely resembled the white plates she had worn not long ago.
The half-fallen-angel nodded. “What is thy bidding?”
“Must we be so formal? Dammit, Aerial, I’m not your Master. I’m your friend.”
“That remains to be seen.” She sighed, then. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Keep on as you are. Encourage people to see many paths. Keep fighting the good fight.”
“Very well.” She closed her eyes, and drew her spirit up and in.