The angel stands, alone. She had been summoned here, and now waits for her
goddess to contact her again. The endless plain stretches on in all
directions from her, a bleak, unbroken emptiness. Unfazed, uncaring to the
sight, not even bored, for serving her mistress is all her desires, the
angel meditates, running through devotions and focusing her mind on her
Time passes. The angel knows not how much. Time is meaningless to her
mistress's will. Finally, a voice speaks. It comes from nowhere and
everywhere, resonating against the skin and through contact with the earth.
You, my most devoted. You will represent me in the world, will bring my
name back to the world's lips. The angel nods her acquiescence. The
feeling of power in the air, the earth, fades. The plain itself shifts,
slowly, becoming nothingness. Only awareness remains, not even a corporeal
form, awareness and a sense of connection, love. Suddenly, blinding light
shines. Light as though one had never seen light before. Voices are
murmuring, a shout to previously deaf ears. The angel screams her pain, and
the newborn wails its wishes to the bright, loud, new world.
DevilsAngel awoke. It was the dream, always the same. Never a face to the
angel, nor the goddess, nor recognition of the baby that cries, only the
words, already fading, on devotion and representation. She shook it off.
The ground was hard beneath her, and becoming quite cold. She stood and
packed her gear, knowing she couldn't get back to sleep, now. She decided
continuing on this quest was the best course. Her parents had sent her out,
to find the source of these dreams. "DA," they had said, "you are not
sleeping well, and these dreams trouble your daytimes, as well. You must
find out from where they come, that you can deal with what is causing them."
And so, she had went.
The dreams had changed over the years. DA sat and thought back through
them. It was always the angel, the voice, the child, but the voice had
changed. Before it was soothing, a comfort in uncertain nights. The baby
awoke murmuring at the changes, not screaming. Now the voice demanded, as
though trying to remind DA of something she had long forgotten, was
unwilling to remember. She stood, hiked her repacked clothing to her
shoulders, trudged on through the night.
The shaman welcomed her warmly when she came to his hut near daylight. His
home was warm and cozy against the coming of winter outside, and DA was glad
to have made it to safe shelter before the storm that had been threatening
broke. He greeted her warmly, saying, "I am much gladdened to have such a
one as you, such an old soul, stop by my humble abode." He bowed many times
as he went about making some tea for the two of them.
DA was confused, but went on. "I came here because you are known to be able
to interpret dreams. And mine have been most troubling to me, recently."
The shaman stood up suddenly, looking once again at her. He came near and
peered deep into her eyes, felt her forehead with the back of his hand. He
made no comment. The tea whistled. As he proceeded to pour tea for each,
and sat two places at a humble table, he gestured to her to sit. "We will
have much to talk on, and the tea will not stay warm forever."
The fire had burned low before the shaman stopped explaining. DA finally
stood again, dazed by all he had told her. She was, in all important
aspects, the angel from her dream. The voice was her goddess, of Mother
Earth, the Mother of all, whose commands she must accept, and strive for.
That she had enormous, untold powers which could be released when a full
joining of her angelic soul to her current body was perfected. She
staggered out the door, not knowing where she was going. The power she
could have enticed her, but more, it was the determination of the voice, the
duty given to her at birth, that she could not ignore. She had to try.
The lady in front of DA turned away. "The old gods no longer reign in this
world. We have new gods, that walk among us as they will." The lady walked
away. DA slumped in defeat. So it was always when she talked about the
Mother. None listened. All believed still in these new gods and their
power. The dreams had become more insistent, near flashes of a face
appearing as the voice, the Mother, spoke, demanding that DA work harder, be
more faithful, more dutiful. She couldn't handle it any longer. She was
weary, too weary to again rise up to the challenges the goddess put before.
DA lay upon the ground where she was, and slept.
The angel kneels, alone, no longer possessing the energy to stand. She had
been summoned here, again, and now waits for her goddess to contact her
again. The endless plain stretches on in all directions from her, a bleak,
unbroken emptiness. World-weary, but still dutiful, the angel has come,
knowing her failure to her mistress's wishes.
Time passes. The angel knows not how much, only that it drags eternal in
this nothingness. Finally, a voice speaks. As always, it comes from
nowhere and everywhere, resonating against the skin and through contact with
the earth. You, my most devoted, do you intend to drown your cares in the
world? To forget your duty? To forget even me because the world is too
harsh? The angel struggles to protest, but falls, instead, supporting
herself on all fours as though the world itself is too heavy. So be it,
then. The feeling of power in the air, the earth, fades. Replacing it,
suddenly, is a red haze of pain, concentrated at the angel's shoulders. Her
vision goes black, and when she comes to again, the white feathers of her
wings surround her, slowly stirring, trailing in the wind as they are pushed
off into infinity.
DA wandered. She tried to settle down, but the dreams continued to spur
her. Dreams of the angel showed her wingless, despondant. The voice no
longer spoke, just intruded into even the most pleasant dreams, unsettling
them, and leaving her unrefreshed. From time to time, she tried to repent,
regain the Mother's favor, attempting again the duty imposed upon her. Time
and again, she left it off against the unrelenting face shown her by all
people she talked with.
Every once in a while, during her wandering, she saw one of the fabled new
gods. They walked cloaked in majesty, sheathing themselves in power and
awing those who saw them. But, like so much that is new, they seemed to her
mere shadows in power next to the Mother, all flash and no substance. They
never seemed to pay any attention to her, and she paid equally no mind to
them. They nagged at her, though, and frequently pushed her duty back to
the forefront of her mind.
After time, bedraggled and road-weary, DA saw one of these gods wandering
the path before her. She lengthened her stride to try and catch up, perhaps
to speak with this one. The immortal one simply floated on, seemingly
unaware, yet DA couldn't catch up. She strode on, faster, still faster.
The god stayed ahead of her, always seeming to be the same distance away.
She began to jog, then to run. Nothing availed her. Eventually, suddenly,
the being jerked aside, along a tiny deer path, DA saw when she came upon
it. She followed, pushing herself to her limit. The path twisted through
overhanging trees, and she had to push through think underbrush, while the
still floating, glowing personage before her, still staying just ahead of
her, seemed to slip past all of it as though immaterial. Finally, the path
dropped out into a field of flowers. Literally dropped. DA felt herself
tumble down a short, sharp incline to wind up, half-dazed, on her back,
looking up at the god staring down at her.
A melodious voice flowed into her head. "Why do you insist in pursuing me
so desperately?" DA got the sense that the god bent down to take a good
look at her.
"Why do you supplant the rightful goddess, the Mother, creator of all this?"
DA sent back quickly, finally having a target for her frustration. She
struggled to sit up against the throbbing in her head, and slowly succeeded
The glowing, no the entire god, beginning to fade into the background of the
sky, the voice again spoke to her, "We did not supplant her, only filled a
vacancy she left by her retreat from the world." The words slowly faded as
the god did. "We would teach the people of her again, if she so desired."
And a swirl of red rose petals was all that remained of the deity.
DA looked around her, suddenly unsure of these new gods, then picked up one
of the petals. She began walking out into the field, covered in cultured
black roses, looking for even a single red one to explain the petals'
existence. As she walked, she felt the presence of the earth, the Mother,
more deeply than she had in a long time, and knew that, somehow, flawed as
she was, she must represent that elder goddess among these new gods. In the
middle of the field, she came upon a vision of her angel, herself, wingless
as ever. When the angel looked up, DA could see the weariness in her eyes,
but now could also see something else - hope. DA reached down, and helped
the angel to stand, and, as the angel leaned against her, DA felt the
communion of their souls, felt the angel herself start to meld into her
body. With her connection to the earth, DA completed the melding, drawing
on the flowers of the fields to create a new set of wings, more majestic
than before, out of the ebony petals of the roses around her. With that
act, DA and the angel became one, and she was privy to all the power and
knowledge the shaman warned her would come with such a communion. She could
see the glow now emanating from herself illuminating those around her, and
then the same melodious voice spoke into her mind. "Come, you belong with
us." And in a swirl of ebony and scarlet petals, she was whisked into the
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*bounces around* Dev