A Dark Grace by Misty Cogburn (ink ebook reader .txt) 📕

~*~*~*~

"Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit

Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast

Brought Death into the world; and all our woe,

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,"

–John Milton's Paradise Lost (Book One: 1-5).

~*~*~*~

Purgatory, Tartarus, the Netherworld, the Underworld, Hades, Makai, Sheol, Anaon, Uffern, Peklo, Tuonela, Gimokodan, Kalichi, Naraka, Hetgwauge, Kuzimu, O le nu'u-o-nonoa, Mictlan, Adlivun, Shobari Waka, Xibalbá, Jahannam… Hell.

Regardless of its many names and horrific descriptions, seldom ever is it stated that Hell is a world of hellish beauty. A world, independent of both Earth and Heaven, Hell is a home that welcomes those of the damned.

Vividly, its deep auburn skies burn alight, radiated by the strange purple suns that fill its sky, echoing the mournful cries of Demons and entrapped souls alike. It burns with a heated core, eternally churning the tormented souls that fill its atrocious lakes of fire. Yet, Hell is much more than just hell-fire and brimstone.

Hell is a world of its own… a planet in its own system of stars. Lush with oceans and colorful foliage, where only a small portion of Hell burns with eternal fire.

It is a world filled with many an extreme climate; overgrown with nightmarish jungles, thick with carnivorous plants, scorched desert plains, high volcanic ridges, rolling with endless mountain ranges, lying alongside its many tundras. Hell's vast lands overflow with countless beastly creatures, whose harrowing eyes can shatter lesser souls with only a glimpse into their depths.

Fortunately, for its inhabitants surviving Hell's horrific world is easy –given their immortal nature. Other than the beasts of Hell, the only surviving occupants of Hell's rugged lands are the damned souls of corrupted man and their Demon overseers.

Demons –Immortal Angels cast from Heaven's glory during the time of the Fall. These Fallen Ones were banished and damned following the Great War. Leaving many of the immortals wishing for the reprieve of death, yet even the cycle of rebirth was taken from these treacherous beings.

Disgraced and left barren of all hope, those of the Fallen evolved into Demons. Beings, who gladly fed from the misery and despair of their surroundings. Yet, in a twist of the divine, their great abundance of nourishment came not from the tormented souls of mankind, but from the select members of the Fallen's own.

Worms –members of the Great Fall maddened and overwhelmed with their loss and grief. After losing the War, many of the Fallen had crawled deep into Hell's cavernous pits longing for either death or eternal solitude.

Those who followed this pitiful practice became known as Worms. Though their eternal practice was scorned, the beings themselves became revered by the future generations of their kind. For, from the grief filled struggle of the Fallen's inability to cope with their eternal damnation, there came a new form of Demons: the Children of the Damned, or the Children of the Fallen. All of whom, felt none of their parent's longing remorse for a world they had never known.

These Children were not damned for an eternity, caged within Hell's boundaries, like that of the members of the Fallen. Instead, these Children were bestowed a chance of redemption and given a promise from God himself.

Though, while they were banished from the sanctity of Heaven, these Children were given a special passageway to the World of Man, the Human World, Earth. Where, once there, the Children of the Damned were free to do either good or evil.

Assured at the time of their birth, these Children of the Damned were given a promise, a prophecy from God that ensured that one day they could all be redeemed.

His vow was:

"Should a Child meet an Angel...

With a heart that is heavy...

One-Hundred years be damned.

Should a Child meet an Angel

With a heart that is light...

Damned be the Angel who would smite.

Forgiven be the Child...

With a heart that is light."

Yet, this chance of redemption brought only outrage from the Angels who had fought and suffered throughout the Great War, and, in either spite or ignorance, the Angels of Heaven refused their given task. Ignoring their preordained mission of condemning the Heart's Sin of a Damned Child.

Instead of a chance for absolution, Earth became battlefront for the Children of the Damned. For, once seen on Earth by a Guardian –an Angel sent to protect the masses of mankind, a Demon will be sealed to Hell for one-hundred years.

Since the prophecy was ordained by God, no Child of the Fallen has yet to be forgiven. For every Angel has refused to acknowledge their task of peering into the heart of a Child of the Damned.

Once marked by the Holy Seal, the Child of the Damned becomes trapped within Hell's boundaries. Encaged for one-hundred years, the sealed Demon is confined to Hell, much like the Fallen themselves. Yet, only for the Children of the Damned will their damnation eventually end.

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"To Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve,

A Summers day; and with the setting Sun

Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star"

–John Milton's Paradise Lost (Book One: 743-745).

~*~*~*~

Luca stood still, his gaze studying the magnificent creature that had fallen from the Heavens. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the dull ache above his bare chest where the remnants of his pounding heart still throbbed. How surprising it had been to see an Angel Fall from the very sky. Then, above all else, to feel the mysteriously still organ of his heart lurch to life at the sight of the Angel's form?

Curiously, Luca drew close, cautiously making his way towards the grounded form of the fallen, battered, being. Philosophically, he studied it's every curve as he guardedly approached its small form; even though it went against his very nature.

Never before had he been curious of Angelic beings, they were creatures best avoided even at the best of times, Luca thought sagely. Yet, with a slight frown, his dark brows angled as he delved deeper into his thoughts.

Yet, here, right at his feet an Angelic subject lay on the very edge of this staggering bluff. Its pitiful form, unconscious and curled into a ball, still visibly trembling from the pain of its Heavenly Seal on its back.

Luca leaned closer, almost apprehensively, for a better view of the area beneath the base of the Angel's wings. Eyeing the circular pattern that marked the freshly branded Seal, now marring the being's flesh.

Surely it was a prelude, Luca rationalized, an explanation to the creature's mysterious appearance in Hell, perhaps?

Logically, it seemed that the Angel was sealed here by one of its own, he concluded.

How odd, Luca couldn't help but think as he continued his observations.

He took note of the being's tattered remains of white silks, grimly stained black by the soot of the ground's volcanic ridges. Then, he silently examined the being's wounds, assessing the multiple lacerations visible on the Angel's frail form; each, still bleeding from the fall the creature had taken just moments prior.

From there, Luca went on to consider the Angel's positioning. Where, one pale, thin, arm hung haphazardly off the side of the bluff's edge. The Angel, lifeless, completely unaware of the dangerous fall one wrong turn would undoubtedly send it plummeting.

Briefly, Luca debated pushing the creature off the edge himself. For surely, this unexpected interruption of his study would result in more trouble than the Angel could be worth. However, even at the mere thought of harming such a creature, Luca was dismayed to find his heart clenched argumentatively within his chest.

Yet, everything about the being was too delicate …and covered in filth, Luca sniffed unsympathetically; more distressed by the idea of touching the Angel's grime, than concerned for its well-being.

Instinctively, Luca edged away from the dirty Angel, his aversion to such things becoming more prominent in the Angel's presence. Regardless of his compulsions, he knew those pale wings would have been a pristine white, if not for the soot that made them appear a dull and lifeless gray.

It clearly wasn't the Angel's fault. Yet, Luca couldn't help but think, he would never stand for such filth to mar his person. The very idea of his raven wings coated in such filth sickened him with bile.

Decidedly, moving past the Angel's sad condition, Luca studied the figure more closely. Only then did he note how similar the Angel's wings were his own. Frowning slightly from his unease, Luca crossed his arms and grabbed his chin just as his brows furrowed with his contemplative thoughts.

In Hell's creation, when the Fallen were cast from Heaven, each of the Fallen had their Angelic wings burned. Their beautiful feathers, scorched into black webbed-wings like that of the chiroptera order.

Even the Children of the Damned, who refused to merge away from what was left of their Angelic Forms, inherited the webbed, bat-like, wings of their Damned predecessors. While, not all Demons of this age still carried their winged forms, each of those who did, bore this cursed trait.

All save Luca. He, who was borne to the most infamous Great Royals in all of Hell, Luca thought towards himself with an unpleasant note. The shadow he lived in, was enough to make even him fearful. Yet, even with the great sin his lineage carried, Luca had been born with Angelic wings, blackened only by their color.

"It was a sign," many of the Fallen said at the time of his birth. "It was the sign of the Redeemer." Scoffing he- Luca shook his head to clear his thoughts. It seemed once again his habit of philosophizing had overtaken his mind.

Yet, how could he not wonder?

Though he was certain his sinful lineage revoked any chance of said redemption, he was however, stunned by the similarities between his wings and the creature's own. For, this was the first time, in all his thousands of years, to see an Angel outside the pages of his many books and scrolls.

Once more focused on the comatose Immortal, Luca gazed lengthily at the creature's wings one last time; before he was suddenly struck with a realization.

Here, at his very feet, was a living specimen not some creature in a book or written passage, it was real… it was present. With a sudden wonderment, Luca grasped that he could physically touch the being before him, and even as unscientific as it seemed, Luca longed to do just that.

Kneeling with a thoughtful look upon his face, Luca hesitantly reached out a clawed hand to touch the tip of the Angel's wing. There was a brief, wondrous, moment, where nothing happened.

Then a warm pale-light enveloped the Angel's form. Momentarily, Luca found himself awed, feeling Heaven's light for the first time in his dark life, before he cringed away in pain. With a yelp, he yanked his hand back. Retreating from the stinging surge of Holy Power, pouring from the Angel's form, which had attempted to burn away Luca's hand.

Gingerly holding his wounded, charred, hand with an angered face. Luca's heated scowl softened slightly when a soft pain-filled moan