There is no start to this story. There is no middle, there is no end. There is only the now and the here. The present is a fickle mistress, for some the present is what was, for others it is what will be. For every generation, for every family there is a clear, defined past and present. The Furditore's however are different. For the Furditore's the story just comes to be; there was an angel, a child, a kingdom, and a family that would live past the natural lives of most.
One could say it all started with an angel, a Seraphim that controlled the frosted realms. He was the lord of all things cold and was rather bored with his stature. His name was Attarib and was a lonely archangel. He sighed from his grand perch in the clouds as looked over the frosted realms. Unlike other angels this one preferred to be with those under his watch. He was especially fond of a German Shepherd, named Morrigan.
Every time he came to visit would take shape of a red panda, however it never seemed to appear quite correctly, and his more natural wolfish appearance would come through. His face would start at the top white and end with a reddish hue, his eyes glowed an icy blue that seemed to glow around his diamond shaped pupils. His hair was white and flowed down to his upper arms. The red fur would follow under his clothes to his chest an stomach, at the center of his upper chest was a yellow beige coloring that seemed to form a heart, on his back was a similar marking but formed an inverse chevron. The white would follow to shoulders and the sides of his bodies, along the back of his legs. The rest of his body was red.
He wore time appropriate clothes consisting of a fresh white tunic, with a brown leather vest; he had a metal plate to cover his upper chest and a single silver pauldron on his left arm. On his arms were leather bracers with a metal covering. His legs had blood red cloth slacks strapped by leather chaps that cut into some leather boots that were plated with metal for extra protection. At the time he wore no weapons, as he saw no need for them. Out of all under his care he took special attention to Morrigan.
He could Stare at Morrigan for hours, watching her lightened brown fur wave in the wind, her white tipped tail wagging near her legs. He would get lost in her steel blue eyes and couldn't help but sniff that reddish-brown hair. In her village she was a priestess or some other high member of their society. She would grand but white robes, that cover her from shoulder to hind paw. At home however, she would instantly drop the pious act walking around in a loincloth and metal bra plating. Attarib was always amused at how casual Morrigan was around him. It would be some time before things changed, but as clichés go, not all happy stories stay happy.
A neighboring village had decided to attack the village Morrigan lived in. Attarib from up high could hear the cries and prayers of his wards, he looked down in surprised and dropped from his perch forming his shape as he flew down. Touching off near the forest barely disturbing the ground as he landed, he looked up past the tree line. He could see the village grabbing pitch forks, scythes, and other farm tools getting ready for the fight. He ran over to the distant cottage of Morrigan's questioning only now after 10 years of visiting why it was so far from the village. He banged relentlessly on the door but found that no one was home. He noticed there was a sword on the side of the door with the name Arend inscribed on the steel. After a short pause he decided to grab it and changed the appearance of his belt creating a draping war wrap to cover his legs like his angel armor, and a scabbard to place the newly acquired weapon.
As he rushed back to the village the air around him changed, it was getting harder breathe and particles were dancing around him, the world grew darker with each step. Finally arriving at the conflict, he could see Morrigan holding a brown staff covered in vines with a lit sphere entrapped in the wood at the very top. She was trying her best to keep the hapless villagers safe as others were fighting around her. He tried to push closer but was stopped by one of the invaders.
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An Angel's LamentScience Fiction
This is an orginal story, featuring original characters,lands,and worlds, within mostly original realms. The angels are bases off the Catholic lore, and Enochian lore. This is a mixed race story, it features Anthromorphic animals and humans coexisti...