United, we were – wings, or so it seemed, flicking, floating and flexing in harmony.
So why, I ask, did the nubs upon my shoulders ache so? Why did our flight halt and hobble? Why were we so rarely in step, let alone time? Why did uneasiness strip feathers from the softest parts, and the hollowed out ascension-struts weep tears of pale blood?
You drew ahead, did you not? Your fierce light burning into my bones, your cavernous need sucking marrow from my soul, leaving nothing but the washed-out eye-brine of the devoured and defeated.
Fallen Angel. Lucifer. Instrument of your own destruction – and that of your followers. Yet Son of Light and Beauty, a radiant being whose descent had its own built-in logic and deliverance.
Without Devil, how balance God? Without Evil, how can Good be anything but pale platitudes and useless dogma?
Crimson pinions erect, flame-fire cremating the atmosphere, you plunged, exulting, your snaking molten hands charring my perfect white foot. Crazy with power and glory, you turned and churned, somersaulted and back-flipped in toxic glee, pennants of mad shame screaming behind your arch-angelic form.
And…when I halted, pulled back, leaving skin upon your talons, dividing us once and for all, you turned in a climax of fury, scraped claws against my wings and pulled, wrenched, tore as hard and slow as you could – so that the agony was forever and the damage irreparable.
I was broken through all time – a toy angel capable only of the once-a-year seat upon the Christmas tree’s highest branch.
Because you would unite only under YOUR terms, Light Bringer, Life Stealer; because there was no true choice but to follow you – and those, like me, who demurred or fought free, were cut asunder, made to suffer…
…through all time.
And so, flung forward through the spirals of time into a century so far from my own, I hold my scarred and ugly wing sites, feel once again the anguish of that separation from my divine self – and scream in helpless torment.