A Fall from Grace

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All it would have taken is a Word from Him. That’s it. That’s all. Father didn’t seem to like talking any more. And honestly, so few got to see His presence now, it was almost like he really wasn’t there.

And for a young one, like Phaleri, he could barely remember being in the Presence.

It had been over two thousand years since he’d been in His Presence. Phaleri was but a lowly feather at the time, and it had been brief. But He had smiled at him, and spoken the Word into him. And it had been nothing short of divine. It seemed so long ago, and now he was in the prime of his young celestial adulthood, lean and strong, and starting to truly come into his power.

The Arch-Seraph had assigned him to watch over humanity in some village,that grew to a city in time. He was charged to not interfere, unless the Fallen had put their hand in. He had done his duty, with honor and distinction. He’d fought the Fallen,sometimes to a point where he might have been in jeopardy of his own immortal existence. But he’d won each engagement, either driving the others off, or dispatching them to the Endless Outside.

But then came the one time – that single time when overwhelmed – when the creatures of Hell had come at him with collective might – baited by one, backstabbed by another, a 3rd  and yet a 4th had come. He’d fought like crazy, and had even called for assistance, but to no avail – None of his brothers or sisters from the Celestial Sphere answered the call. So, he fought until he had managed to kill or destroy three but was struck senseless by the 4th – and so he failed for once in in his life.

Did he feel humiliated? Not really. But he felt the guilt of loss. Bloodied – his body weeping vitae, his beautiful wings damaged, he’d been dragged towards one of the pits to Hell. But something happened – the Daemon had been attacked by… something. Something or someone bright and illuminated, like one of the Celestials. And as that fight raged, Phaleri staggered off, escaping. But he was so weak, he didn’t get far.

He fell senseless in some slag pit, water-logged, and sulfurous. Again, his calls went unanswered, though he could not be sure, in his weakened state, that his cries were even strong enough to reach to the Celestial Sphere. He fell into a dreamless slumber.

When he’d woken,he found himself in a warm and safe home, in the care of what his Bretheren called an Eldar – a demi-immortal being – a hybrid creature of the Outer Planes, The Pagan Gods had created their own angelic-class of beings, and this was an Eldar, sometimes called the Elves.

Reynahr had smiled at him, and he recognized him as the one that had intervened with that last Daemon that had taken him captive and allowed his escape. Though not quite equal to the Celestials, he had proved quite potent and knowledgeable, strong and wise, not to mention beautiful and charming. He was skilled in the healing arts, and was able to bring the Phaleri back from his terrible injuries. And to provide… comfort and ease. Warmth and companionship.

Phaleri had not trusted Reynahr immediately, like when he’d woken for the first time, and Reynahr was bathing him, cleansing his beautiful body and wings from the slag’s acrid and deadly taint. Phaleri had struggled, weakly, but the Elf had simply pressed him back, and whispered, “Enough for now – your fight is done until you have recovered..I will protect you. Rest – you are safe. “ And it had been true.

It took months of healing, and it was strangely comforting to get to actually converse with someone with a perspective like his own. A strange curiosity bloomed inside the young angelic, one that he’d been trained to avoid – such things as curiosity were not encouraged in his kind. He’d always stoically and silently guarded the ones in his assigned patrol. Never interacted, never learned more than the rudiments of what they were or did. And he had been content. You never know what you’re missing, until you get to taste it for yourself. And now – he was tasting the existence he’d only observed.

After a time, something strange happened – he and Reynahr kissed and lay with one another. At first it was simple and sweet, but slowly it progressed. Eventually, the two did the deed, and it was both carnal and beautiful and it did so much to make him feel joy and pleasure for the first time in his immortal life! He found he craved this sort of contact. The two grew closer, and their bond grew and blossomed..

Then he was found by the Celestials, a phalanx of the Angelic Host. And they scooped him up and returned him to the forward outpost where Mikelliel, the commander, was directing the new offensive. There, he was greeted with alarm and distress by the Arch-Seraph,who told him he must return and dispatch his lover, and thus show his loyalty to the Celestial Sphere, and to prove he was untainted by Daemon or Pagan filth.

Phaleri did not feel tainted, he felt alive. As he was given this choice, he brooded, and it did not go unnoticed. But the Celestials were creatures of duty. And he was expected to obey. When dismissed, Phaleri went to the Armory, and took from there the Mask of the Obsidian Flock, and re-armed himself with the Claw Sword, a vicious weapon, and he took the Red Mist and its haze enveloped the Mask and his face with its power. He wore that and the necklace that his lover had given him, and then he turned to face the his choice.

As he did these thing – he felt something.. changing in him. His resolve did not falter, but his alabaster feathers darkened. The became as midnight and in his heart, he felt it was just as well. He was no longer with The Host, and so their Father had decreed such a change would happen, as it had with other Fallen. He didn’t not care, though. He would return to the Earth, to his Raynahr, and the two would find some place the Celestials could not reach them.

He was discovered by two Celestials, and they raised weapons against one another. White Wings against the Dark. And when his blade rose and drew the blood of his brothers, he felt it finally hit him. Truly, he had Fallen. They fought, but Phaleri’s conviction and power were unbridled, and his desperate need to escape and win free helped him win the skirmish. His former brothers did not go down easy. But they did go down.

He left, choosing not to kill, even though he had the opportunity. Something he’d always been taught the Fallen did not do – Fallen were savages and merciless. Another Lie. He chose mercy. It was what he’d always been taught was the way of his Father, even despite evidence to the contrary.

He left his brothers sorely wounded, and he slammed the doors behind him, He looked back, one last time, leaving his home. The stone door of the Aerie was cold and silent. He was really going to do this.

He had Fallen, and now he would descend to the Earth, and there to dwell for whatever time he had left. He and Raynahr would perhaps be on the run, or perhaps they would find some other place far beyond the reach of the Celestials? He spread his wings and leapt – and let himself truly fall from the bastions of Above.

Sometimes you had to Fall to know what Grace was.

~Dehrynn Shepherd 

Body:
Mesh- TMP Deluxe Body  (Store)
Hair- Tableau Vivant \\ Twist hair (Store)
Breath- [CX] Red Bull’s Breath (Store)

Outfit:
Mask, Wings, & Claw- C L A Vv. Battle of the Birds (The Arcade)
Skirt- >glYph< Acolyte (Store)
Armband & Bracelets- ::GB::Leather Wind Bracelet & Leather braclet (Store)
Necklace- TABOU. Melinda Necklace (Store)

Tattoos:
[White~Widow] Cosmopolitan bday (Cosmopolitan)

Decor:
Door- Rekt & Violetility – Ultimate Rp Door Elven (We ❤ RP)

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One thought on “A Fall from Grace

  1. Pingback: A Fall from Grace – rektsl

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