Of Penitence and Sin

CHAPTER 1

I shuffled sleepily into the living room, and saw Morgan sleeping on the couch, her long auburn hair veiling the mountain of bottles that I knew lay beside her. It struck me that I should probably wake her up, but at the time it felt like too much effort. If she didn’t bother to wake up by herself, the she didn’t deserve to pass the class, no matter if the ninety-percent-of-our-grade final was today.

I rubbed my head dejectedly as I thought about said test. Did I even study? Last night was a blur of illusions and false realities, similar to every other night, and it was hard to tell what had been real and what hadn’t. But still…

I stopped worrying when I reached the kitchen, and put all my energy into pouring a bowl of cereal. Everything took so much effort those days.

I figured I’d just wing the test. I could take the class as many times as I liked anyway. Even as fallen angels, we still kept our longevity and appearance of youth. From the times of great kings and pharaohs we had loitered about this desolate earth, until finally settling on the Americas which, may I add, we knew about long before Columbus made his famous voyage.

The view from Heaven was so much better than the narrow one down here, and you could really appreciate the beauty of the earth. I only realized how hard it was to travel between these continents when I was restricted to travel by foot.

After catching the first boat across the Atlantic, I had made my way to the city of Chicago, a place so full of sin it was sure to have one more space for me. Over time we four gathered into the group we are now, with Morgan transferring in from England, Kaylee coming over from the crowded streets of Japan, and Zephyr being dragged across the border from Mexico.

We all attended various classes at some local college deeply embedded in the heart of Chicago. I guess I wanted to be a scientist, as it seemed the most forward moving of the fields practiced on Earth. Zephyr wanted to go into architecture, a field he studied in Heaven, although it is construction on a much different scale there. Both Kaylee and Morgan trained to be nurses, and bickered over homework when not otherwise preoccupied by more important matters like hair and clothes. And it was while we were all walking to our respective classes that we met our soon-to-be fifth member.

I was walking to my first class of the day when THUMP! Some idiot’s football hit me square in the back of the head. After so assaulting me, it fell heavily to the ground, rolling lazily by my feet. A human dressed in sports attire, smiling from ear to ear and lightly panting, yelled, Hey, man, could you throw it back over here?

I wondered whether I should comply to his wishes. In Heaven, such an insult would usually result in a duel, possibly to the death. But that day I was feeling merciful. I bent down slowly, reaching out and grasping the ball with about as much hurry as a sloth.

The football player looked ticked off at my antics. He was about to yell something rather rude when his football came rushing back at him, splitting is lip and breaking his nose in the process. He spun back around, still reeling from the blow. Disbelief and indignation were written boldly across his face, but all he could see was the back of my hoodie. I had a class to get to, after all.

As I was reaching for the doorknob, my fingers brushed those of another, smaller than mine by half. A strange tingling energy surged through my arm, one that could only be explained by encountering another Fallen. All I got was a glimpse of white-blonde hair before the slight figure rushed past me into the nearly full classroom.

Stunned, I stood gaping at the door creaked slowly shut, a slight whoosh of air striking me as it closed. I shook my head furiously, and then wrenching open the door, walking brusquely into the classroom and sitting in my usual seat in the back.

The tests were handed out the minute the clock struck nine. I glanced casually to the side as I answered questions at random, surveying the entire classroom and yet not finding the Fallen angel. My quest for the mysterious girl was cut short by my instructor, who turned my head roughly back towards my own paper. I scowled, but didn’t let my anger get the best of me this time.

In roughly an hour the exam was over, and I was wholly unsatisfied with all my answers. I turned it in anyway. Time is the one thing I had enough of, right? But as I was leaving, someone grabbed my arm, sending another jolt through it. Her. I turned slowly letting a mask of boredom slide over my features, a look I had worked hard to perfect.

Her face, though, was as radiant as the sun, her brilliantly white smile was echoed in purple eyes so vibrant they could only be those of an angel. I decided to play the fool. Excuse me, but I have to catch a bus, and you are kind of making me late.

Her deep gaze was penetrating, though, and I felt my facade start to slip away. She replied in a hurry.

Please, you have to help me, there’s an attack, a gathering, evil, please, help me!

I was unsure how to respond to this. What was she talking about? Attacks, evil, what? Could this be the work of the King Below? But no. Why should I care, why should I help those who so callously cast me out, left me stranded here?

I have no allegiances anymore, messenger. No more will I sacrifice for my betrayers. Ask another.

I had betrayed my identity, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. She was more desperate then, a panicked gleam in her eye.

Please, they said you were the strongest. I became a Fallen for this cause! Do you not know what this has cost me?

At her last comment she immediately looked down for of course I knew the agony of the Fall, and had experienced this pain for far longer than her. But since I was becoming curious (a terrible human weakness, may I add), I decided to hear her out.

Fine then, messenger, I guess you better meet the crew.

She looked excited, thinking I had accepted her proposal, but I quickly doused that hope when I told her I was only getting the advice of my friends. We arrived at the flat after a five minute walk, and I was glad the girl didn’t remember my lie about the bus. She was probably too polite to admit it even if she had.

I showed her inside, and cringed inwardly when I heard Kaylee and her friend together a couple rooms away. I led the angel girl to the couch and proceeded to make hot chocolate, as it was one of those blustery and miserable cold days common to Chicago. All the while I asked questions. First was her name. She replied that it was Elena, I returned with my own, ending the awkward formalities.

So who exactly do you plan on fighting?

It was a pretty innocent question in my mind, although my people skills must not be as good as I thought they were, for she nearly started crying before she answered. About three months ago, another angel fell. I think you might know him, actually. Dylan?

My cheeks flushed a deep red. That traitor! I knew there was something wrong with him, but did anyone listen to me? No, they had to go and banish me instead, for his crime! Anger surged over me in waves of red, hazing my vision and boiling my blood. Elena noticed, and put a soothingly cool hand on my arm.

But this only served to embarrass me. My lack of control was another side affect of life on earth; emotions always ran high among humans. I turned away.

Take your problems and leave. I want nothing to do with that monster. Although serves him right, to fall as I have.

What does he mean to you anyway?

We’ve had our…disagreements, was my vague answer. After a brief silence she again tried to gain my allegiance.

Dylan has let out the Seven Sins. Now he has some sort of control over them, and he’s wreaking havoc over Heaven and Earth. Please I can’t do it alone, I’m not strong enough. But with you the world might actually stand a chance. They still tell stories of you to the young ones, of your great deeds and valor in the first War of Darkness. I can’t believe the amount of demons that fell by your hand.

She abruptly stopped her praise when I turned away from her, facing the fireplace instead.

And do you know what my devotion led to? THIS!

And then I ripped off my flimsy human shirt, my wings that had been hidden for so long falling limply against my back. My beautiful wings, once so powerful and glorious, now looked as dead and dirty as a stray cat. Their brilliant emerald had faded to an inky shadow of their former color, the feathers so damaged that they wouldn’t hold me in flight anymore. I could barely even move them. Laughing limply, I spoke to the wall.

The chemicals they have down here, well, lets just say they have a bad effect on angels. But now I’m addicted, and there’s no going back.

First she was too stunned to answer, but then, Are all of your wings like this? No, Kaylee’s are as beautiful as before, she’s vain like that, but she keeps them tied down while her friends are around, so they’re almost unable to carry her. Zephyr, he can still fly, but now his lungs are so bad from smoking that he can only fly for short amounts of time, really close to the ground. Morgan has hers working properly, but still doesn’t get many chances to use them. And I got the best of both worlds, mine are as ugly as mud and won’t even straighten anymore.

All this I said with my back to her, but as I finished I turned halfway to see how she would react. It wasn’t horror that covered her features, as it had been with the few other angels our group had encountered, it was kindness and sympathy.

When she reached out to touch the disfigured wings, I shied away, almost scared of the contact. She reached again, and this time I steeled my heart and let her touch them. Her hand was cool and soft, and it was surprising that I could feel anything in my wings at all. Then I felt a tingle, all the way through my spine, and suddenly I could lift my wings. I turned in wonder and then shielded my eyes as I saw the most beautiful wings in the history of angels. They were almost made of light, as white as snow and undoubtedly ten times as soft. I was amazed, since there hadn’t been a white-winged angel in over three hundred years.

You are one of the Chosen. But how, why, wait what?

This muddle of words was all that escaped my lips after I had regained my voice. I kept muttering something incoherent, but she put a finger to her lips, brows crinkled and a look of deep concentration on her face. Finally she let go. I flapped my wings experimentally, and a great wave of air shook the apartment walls.

Immediately falling to one knee, I said with my voice choking up, I am at your disposal, my lady. Tell me my mission and it will be carried out. I’m sure she wasn’t ready for my sudden change of heart, but she accepted it with an excited nod.

She added, The healing will only work for so long. I’ll probably have to redo it sometime on our quest.

I nodded, too stunned by the amazing gift that was given to me to do anything else. But then the full realization of what I’d sworn to do hit me like a ton of bricks. My face hardened into a mask of grim determination.

We’re going to need help.

CHAPTER 2

C onvincing my friends was not as difficult as I had believed it would be. It actually took less time for all three to agree than it took me alone. I guess I was the stubborn one. Both Morgan and Kaylee thought it would be great to have a new little sister to dress up and pamper, and the fact that she was of the Gifted Race didn’t hurt either. Zephyr took a little more convincing, me using my authority as our leader and Elena using that wild card lineage of hers. Then all their wings were healed as well, although I was a little bit upset when she said that their cures would be permanent. It was then that she also found out about our fatal addictions.

Come nightfall, the four of us turned to our separate pleasures, losing the world to an empty numbness. Kaylee would go into her room with one of her friends, Morgan and Zephyr would sit on the couch, exchanging blurred memories of Heaven while they drank and smoked respectively.

Elena came in to ask me a question, probably where she was supposed to sleep in this pigsty, but by that time I was too far into the world of dreams to be called back. Interestingly enough, my drugged mind presented to me the memory of my exile, an unpleasant recollection compared to the usual excitement of my fevered dreams. It begins thus.

I walked in front of a crowd of people, all clamoring for my blood no doubt. But I was immune to their jeers, and simply stepped forward onto the dais, my bound wings hindering my balance. The judge spoke.

Peter of the Fourth Legion, you have been convicted of a most heinous crime. An anonymous persecutor has intel that you have broken one of our most sacred laws, and have attempted to contact one of the Demons Lords, a creature by the name of Bael.

My mind was fuzzy, lost to a hazy stupor in which most rational thought had deserted me, but even then the name sent flashes of anger through my mind.

I would never. Who dares to accuse me?

My words came out slurred and quickly, almost unintelligible, and the jury seemed to think this was a part of my corruption.

The rest of the case is forgotten by my memory, wiped blank by the passing of years, but I do remember this. As I walked out of the Judgement Hall, weighed down by my undeserved penalty, I saw Dylan, my best friend at the time.

Though he was carefully hidden by the shadows, my sharp eyes could still pick him out, and I called frantically, Brother, help me. There must have been a mistake-

All I got was one last look at his strangely calm face, his smile forever haunting my subconscious. It came to me now. After a hundred years penance, I finally realized who had committed the sin I was so wrongly accused of: Dylan. Two-faced scoundrel. But then my mind stopped wandering between dreams, and a new memory overtook me. It was of my first fight with Bael. I was fresh out of the training camp when they’d thrown me on the front lines. It was then that I discovered my skill for murder as I cut down row upon row of attacking demons. We won battle after battle, and I was honored as a good-luck charm by my mates. But then about two months in I met the demon horde commander face to face, and it was there on that blood stained plain that my first real battle began.

All of my teachings and instinct came into play as I furiously parried and blocked. There was little time for thought or hesitation, and