For The Rest of Forever

The sky boiled above her, an angry sea of tomato soup clouds that fought for their own place in the atmosphere. The ground was bare and desolate, a ruined landscape covered in withered patches of sickly gray grass and weeds that stood on skinny bodies. Even if it wanted to, nothing could grow here. This circle of death extended on for miles in this hellish plane of existence. Only one blemish dotted the land, and like a pimple it couldn't help but catch your eye. Near the center of the anomaly, well, precisely in the center if you cared to check, a young girl stood shackled to the ground. Her arms and legs were held down by thick, rusty iron manacles that fit tightly to her limbs. The length of the chains on her legs held her back from moving more than half a foot or so, and the ones attached to her arms were slightly too short to allow her to stand up straight. Her back was bent at an uncomfortable angle, but the chains wouldn't allow her to sit. Her bare feet arched on the prickly ground, her torn dress fluttering in the hot breeze. Every aspect of her punishment was catered to cause her pain or discomfort, and as the days and months and years passed, she felt more and more alone.

The strangest part about her adorned her back. Out of two large rips in the back of her dress grew a pair of grand wings made up of hundreds of silky black feathers that ruffled in the wind, that rose and fell with every breath she took. The wings spanned twice her height and rose a good few feet above her head, when fully extended. They were so dark they seemed almost like rips in the universe, like tears in the fabric of reality. They hadn't always been as black as the night sky. At the beginning of her sentence, they had been whiter than snow. So pure and blinding you could hardly look at them. But as day after day went by, feathers began darkening one by one, soaking up the pollution from the world around her until they were as they are today: midnight and droopy and sad, itching from disuse.

She dropped just a little more, like a wilting flower, her head sagging as she found it harder and harder to keep her chin up. Her wings followed suit, curling a little more into her body. Once, she had tried to fly away, flapping her wings hard enough to create a cyclone of wind cocooning her body. But no matter how fast her wings fluttered, she had been held down by the chains tethering her to the ground. That was what seemed like decades ago, and she had long since given up on flying away. The angels in charge of her sentencing had truly thought of everything. Her wings ached from the lack of use, the place where feather met skin chafed almost as bad as her shackled wrists and ankles. Unfortunately, there was a high chance they would never be used again- she almost wished they had been taken from her like they had stolen her name. But that would have been too large of a kindness.

Her legs buckled, the chains tugging at her body as she quickly righted herself. Her wings shielded her body as a bright angelic light lit the field, illuminating every sharp edge of her malnourished body. A strong breeze blew through her wings, chilling her down to her bones. Never, in all her years of serving her punishment, had this happened before. Every limb was trembling from fear. She hadn't seen light since... well, since she was cast out. It was too bright to see with, and she shied away from it as it pulsed brighter and brighter. Like a song from a loudspeaker, a voice boomed across the field. It shook her bones and echoed through her skull.

YOUR FAULT, YOUR PUNISHMENT. She remembered those words- those identical words were spoken when she had first woken up here. The memory shook her to her core and she had to suppress a scream as pain- white hot and burning- ripped through her. She stumbled, her wings sagging weakly as she swallowed another scream. Pain pulsed behind her eyelids. As suddenly as the light had appeared, it was gone, like a bright spotlight suddenly shutting off. It took her a minute to get the pain under control, and her eyes to readjust to the nearly nonexistent lighting, but when she could finally lift her head from her wings she realized she was no longer alone.

Another figure stood a few feet away, hunched over much the same way she was, his back to her. His body was wrapped in a blanket of pure white feathers, hiding his features. He was crying softly, she could hear it- the unnatural sound bounced around the quiet air. Her ears had been attuned to silence for so many years that she longed to cover her ears and block out the sound.