Jiyou's Wings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this a couple years ago after a dream that I had. The song that the angel sings still plays in my head every now and then and it still seems so very sad.

Submitted: November 04, 2011

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Submitted: November 04, 2011

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Cerulean pools hidden beneath heavily lashed lids gazed thoughtlessly below the heavens. Playful winds danced across her skin, mercurial fingers of those spirited sylphs pulling at stray emerald fronds. A delicate hand reached up to tuck them behind her ears, exposing the simple beauty of her face. Her face, oh sweet Seraphim! Salted rivulets threatened to pour down that porcelain perfection as the wingless angel mourned the suffering of the world below her.

Consummation of the soul.

Her lungs expanded as she drew in an inhalation of the deliciously warm air then contracted, forcing the audible breath past voluptuous lips to sing to her Gods, hoping they would intervene,

"Day into night. The Moon, she doth rise,
And the Sun retreats from the sky.
All hope is lost for that warm-blooded race
As the Reign of Terror begins."


She turned away, no longer able to watch the rampage of evil tormenting those below her. The intensity of their woeful cries for help stirred such longing within her halcyon essence that her voice begged to be satisfied, pleaded to be released, and she was helpless to resist its wistful desire.

"Why won't you see what has happened to them?
Oh, will you not open your eyes?
Our world is lost, there is no retreat
While the valleys, they lament in pain."


Her shoulders sagged, head hung low as a single, crystalline tear made its escape from its sapphire imprisonment. The angel's hand released its grip on the silver spear she'd carried, the mellifluous peal of metal reverberating across the heavens.

She took a step.

"Jiyou," a dual-toned voice, both masculine and feminine embodied into a single entity, called to her.

At the sound of her name, the angel's head tilted upwards, saddened orbs staring into the omnipotent eyes of her Gods.

Their lips parted, a gentle breeze, the sweet melody of life, flowed over her as they blessed the wingless angel with their very essence.

Another step and she faltered, crumbling to her knees. The angel's body, wracked with pain, shuddered as her hands shot forward to cushion her fall. The digits of her hands splayed outwards as she screamed, then tightened into small fists as she rocked her body to and fro, a futile attempt to soothe her own suffering.

Across her back, just between her shoulder blades, two small wounds began to form, as if pierced with the tip of a sword. The blue liquid of the angel's blood flowed freely, staining the diaphanous cloth of her veils. Bony protrusions, coated in thick viscous fluid, forced their way out of the wounds. Jiyou's eyes clenched shut while beads of sweat formed across her forehead. Perfectly shaped teeth bit into the pink rosebuds of her lips as she felt each segment slowly growing.

Opening her eyes, she'd turned her head to look behind her, emerald tresses cascading past sunken shoulders. Gorgeous, feathered wings unfurled behind her, each feather a dazzling aquamarine, flecks of silver sprinkled throughout. Instinctively, she began to pump her newly grown appendages, circulating the flow of blood and drying the dampened feathers.

"Rise," again, her Gods spoke to her.

Using the spear she'd previously cast away, Jiyou slowly rose to her feet, afraid she'd topple over. Hesitantly, she tilted her eyes upwards to her Gods once more. Understanding fleshed between the pair, angel and her Gods, and she smiled. With but a silent whisper, Jiyou took to the skies, her weapon clutched fiercely in her hand. At the zenith of her flight, she'd wrap her wings around her body and plummet to the Earth below her. The salvation of Mankind carried swiftly on wings created with the very essence of her Gods.

 


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