Torn Cherub Wings
PROLOGUE
It was the night before Christmas and the sky was clear and dark, pinpricked by tiny shards of starlight. The naked branches of the old willow tree, by which I landed on the pads of my feet, strived to reach the velveteen firmament, swaying with the whispering gusts of wind, white with fresh snow. The ruins of the old chapel rested in their hallowed stillness, statues of saints strewn helter-skelter over the long-ruined marble floors, some resting on their sides, some still managing to stand up straight despite the passing centuries. Much like I did.
The soft contours of his shadow grazed my torso and I rendered myself motionless, dead and white like the abundance of stone in my midst. His moves were so much like a mountain lion’s, smooth and predatory and I forgot myself for a moment, lost in the sheer silken elegance of the motion in his quick legs and slender arms while his dark mane flew with the wind like a flag of some ancient warrior nation.
When the moon peered out from underneath the heavy clouds filled with gushing snow, I could see the few of the snowflakes tangled in his lashes. How peculiar, the contrast of the black and white, smothered by the gleam in his eyes that seemed searing hot yet it was just as icy as the rest of him.
How unabashed and downright insulting of us to be playing hunting games on a holy night such as this, I thought with a small smile, but… it didn’t matter to us that much anyway. Perhaps this was a kind of spite, a small retaliation for the tiny matter of eternity we were supposed to spend in damnation. Already condemned to the greatest punishment of all, it wasn’t like we had much to fear, was it?
It was something far profaner that we feared. Loneliness. Long hours spent alone, contemplating the vastness of the empty space in our chests. A feeling so common, so basic, so human appeared a horror to us. It hung over us like a shadow of some ancient heathen god of torture or punishment or… No, not death.
He was gliding towards me with a knowing glint in his eyes. Soon, his breath tickled my nostrils with its sweet ambrosia scent.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” he whispered, lips barely moving while those orbs of his conveyed thousands of different feelings at once. But most of all they were so immensely sad.
“If you know, then why are you still leaving me?” I could have made this easier for him, but I wouldn’t. After so long, he wanted to split ways, the only one of my kind I knew besides myself.
“Beloved, forgive me, but quit being such a spoiled little brat,” the softness of my partner’s words lashed at me and I lashed back with a wounded glare, the kind his heart was especially weak to. But to no avail for he turned away and closed his eyes with a deep, exhausted sigh.
And I knew I had to set him free. I am a selfish thing you see, but this silent heart of mine would mutiny against me and implode in my chest if I laid eyes on him just once more. Meeting those sad eyes would set my insides ablaze.
“Leave then, but know, if we ever cross paths again—“
“We will!”
I killed the earnestness in his voice with no more than a stony glance.
“Let me finish. Like I said, if we ever cross paths again, do not expect to meet a friend when you look upon my face.”
“But—“
“Leave now.”
And he did.
The cold saints were still broken on the snow-coved ground and the wintry air crashed against them, breaking on my back as I stilled again, looking at the stars with snowflakes in my eyelashes.
The soft contours of his shadow grazed my torso and I rendered myself motionless, dead and white like the abundance of stone in my midst. His moves were so much like a mountain lion’s, smooth and predatory and I forgot myself for a moment, lost in the sheer silken elegance of the motion in his quick legs and slender arms while his dark mane flew with the wind like a flag of some ancient warrior nation.
When the moon peered out from underneath the heavy clouds filled with gushing snow, I could see the few of the snowflakes tangled in his lashes. How peculiar, the contrast of the black and white, smothered by the gleam in his eyes that seemed searing hot yet it was just as icy as the rest of him.
How unabashed and downright insulting of us to be playing hunting games on a holy night such as this, I thought with a small smile, but… it didn’t matter to us that much anyway. Perhaps this was a kind of spite, a small retaliation for the tiny matter of eternity we were supposed to spend in damnation. Already condemned to the greatest punishment of all, it wasn’t like we had much to fear, was it?
It was something far profaner that we feared. Loneliness. Long hours spent alone, contemplating the vastness of the empty space in our chests. A feeling so common, so basic, so human appeared a horror to us. It hung over us like a shadow of some ancient heathen god of torture or punishment or… No, not death.
He was gliding towards me with a knowing glint in his eyes. Soon, his breath tickled my nostrils with its sweet ambrosia scent.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” he whispered, lips barely moving while those orbs of his conveyed thousands of different feelings at once. But most of all they were so immensely sad.
“If you know, then why are you still leaving me?” I could have made this easier for him, but I wouldn’t. After so long, he wanted to split ways, the only one of my kind I knew besides myself.
“Beloved, forgive me, but quit being such a spoiled little brat,” the softness of my partner’s words lashed at me and I lashed back with a wounded glare, the kind his heart was especially weak to. But to no avail for he turned away and closed his eyes with a deep, exhausted sigh.
And I knew I had to set him free. I am a selfish thing you see, but this silent heart of mine would mutiny against me and implode in my chest if I laid eyes on him just once more. Meeting those sad eyes would set my insides ablaze.
“Leave then, but know, if we ever cross paths again—“
“We will!”
I killed the earnestness in his voice with no more than a stony glance.
“Let me finish. Like I said, if we ever cross paths again, do not expect to meet a friend when you look upon my face.”
“But—“
“Leave now.”
And he did.
The cold saints were still broken on the snow-coved ground and the wintry air crashed against them, breaking on my back as I stilled again, looking at the stars with snowflakes in my eyelashes.
♠ ♠ ♠
I got this silly little idea, you see? I want to blur the lines in between the wrongs and rights.