Stained Wings

Chapter Nine

"How do the angels get to sleep when the devil leaves the porch light on?"

- Tom Waits

Amelia

I know who I am now.

I am the fallen Dark Angel of light, Afamelia.

It's been almost six centuries since the fall. The first few months went by quick. Azriel looked after me and cared for me, just like he had promised. We were both Spellcasters and for a little while, that was enough for me. Just Azriel, his love and my powers. That was all I needed. Azriel and I often fought alongside each other and his Fallen, protecting our territory from malicious white angels. My life was simple and I liked it. For a long time I was happy, because Azriel did everything he could to show me that the dark path was the only thing I needed. I liked fighting for him, because it made him happy. He would send me on special missions to bring down white angel groups. I never killed them, I just made sure that they were injured bad enough to stay out of our way when we planned an attack.

I always thought Azriel was using his troops to fend off the white angels. He always told me that the white angels were trying to take everything we had, including our traits, and that couldn't happen. He said the white angels blamed us for the fall and wanted revenge. I believed him. I was blind to him because of love, but I couldn't help but feel that there was more to this story.

One night, I decided to follow his troops on their mission. They travelled to a small village in Africa. The people in this village couldn't defend themselves.

I watched the troops scatter across the small village and my blood turned cold when I saw what they did. They locked the defenceless humans in their homes and burned them alive. Those who escaped, they ate right there, tearing them apart limb by limb. When everyone was dead, they gathered the souls and took them to Azriel, who consumed them in his hunt for destructive power.

I couldn't sleep for days after that. I heard the screams of the innocent in my sleep and started to doubt my choice in this fight. On a day I heard Azriel talking to his right hand man. His Fallen said, "Today was great, boss. We collected a total of four thousand souls for you and one white angel soul, too." And my heart exploded. It was too much for me to bear. Four thousand innocent people died because of one man's quest for power. He can also consume angels' souls? That night, as we sat in bed, I looked at the man I chose to live my eternity with.

This isn't what I wanted. He promised me a life of peace and love, but at what cost? Could I really sit and watch as he destroyed the human race, as long as I live in luxury and sound mind?

I made a mistake. This wasn't love. I didn't love this man as anything more than a brother. He tricked me and lied to me to get what he wanted. The white angels weren't trying to take what we had, they were trying to protect those innocent souls. The thing that made me want to kill myself was that I helped Azriel with his plan so many times.

"Azriel," I said, my throat dry, "cut my wings off."

Azriel looked stunned, his eyes darting to my wings. They were white once, long ago. But when I chose to side with Azriel, they were stained black. To me, my wings were a symbol of my honour. I thought I was fighting for the right cause, but I was blindly following Azriel, who lied to me and deceived me. I didn't want my wings anymore. I had no honour and they were a reminder of the mistake I made.

Of course, Azriel didn't hesitate to cut them out. In fact, he enjoyed it. He was laughing the whole time. It took me weeks to recover from the wound, but when it did, I forged an Atherblade and disappeared from Azriel's life. I found myself a small, remote village and lay low.