Alright, I decided that my blog would be a nice way to post my short fiction for my creative writing story.
It’s called The Angel of Passing!
Lord Aursus had chosen this grassy field because of its history. There had been a war here. It had been a great battle that claimed countless lives. There was no colour in the foliage. There were no trees. It also seemed as if there was never a sunny day here. Always overcast. Always dark.
Rumour had it that so many men had died in the fields that there were still many lost souls there. Many wandering spirits. They said that the Angel of Passing still scoured the fields in search of the forgotten. They said that if one wanted to see the Reaper, they should go there.
That is why the Lord had picked it.
He was a large man, tall and muscular. Those above him knew of his powerful loyalty and unrelenting sense of duty, but those below him knew only of his frightening stare and his brutal efficiency. Those under his direct command knew of his strength and tactful leadership. He was a cruel man. He was a wise man. He was a leader.
Lord Aursus sat on his horse, staring into the grey sky. He had not seen a single bird since they had arrived, nor had he seen so much as a deer or rabbit in passing. This was not what unnerved him, though. It was his horse. The horse was well bred and well trained. It had been born for a life of servitude and had never shown the lord a single shred of dissidence, yet it was obvious it wanted nothing more than to turn and run from this place. It stayed only out of complacency of its master.
Breaking his thoughts, Lord Aursus watched a soldier approach him. He looked down from his horse, peering down with his notorious stare at the man that had come to him. “Is everything set?” he asked, knowing the answer. There would only be one reason for him to be approached.
“Yes, my Lord,” the young man replied, a masked fear in his voice, “All forty men are in position.”
“And what of the boy,” Aursus paused, “the sacrifice? Has he been properly briefed?”
The soldier nodded. “Yes, he has been prepared as well. He has a complete understanding of what he is supposed to do.”
“Perfect,” Aursus said, with a powerful dignity, “Then let us make history.”
***
Lord Aursus rode his horse around the large circle that was his men. They were all a few meters apart, with their bodies to the ground. The only man Aursus could readily see was the boy that stood in the center of all of them. He was a young boy, thin and quiet. He had been picked for both his youth and his innocence. His parents claimed that he has never committed one dishonest deed and that he was the most benevolent person in the entire county. He had been the perfect candidate for this sacrifice.
“Men,” Lord Aursus shouted fiercely, “Today is a day that shall live in the hearts and minds of all throughout the world. We do a great service to every living man, woman, and child and they will not even know of our deeds. Since the dawn of time, man has lived in fear of death. Every thought we have and every action we make is followed by the same notions of duty to the afterlife. We are slaves to the hereafter. We cannot live for today. I say that these constraints are damaging to us all. These constraints are making us all weaker, merely pawns of death to be played around with and then discarded. I say that these constraints should be shattered. These constraints, on this day, shall be shattered.”
Lord Aursus rode up to the boy. He held a small, jade-encrusted dagger in his hand and a quiet look of fear on his face. He was young.
“Boy,” Lord Aursus began, “Know that what you do is a great service to all of mankind. Know that you will be remembered and spoken of for all time.” The lord looked down at the boy with his fierce, stabbing gaze.
The boy returned a glance, feeling Aursus’ eyes go even deeper into him. They went past his eyes. They were even going past his mind, straight into his soul. A bead of sweat rolled down the boy’s forehead. “I will, my Lord,” his voice quivering and unsteady, “I will.”
The wind began to blow wildly. It was the only sound any of them could hear from the complete silence of the field they were in. There was not a single bird in the sky, or any other animal on the ground. It was a strange look to see the wilderness so devoid of life. Lord Aursus trotted his horse away from the circle of men to his own position. He turned around and dismounted. Without the restraint of his master, the horse turned and galloped away. He paid no mind to the beast. He could not spare any.
“Ready, men,” Lord Aursus shouted, knowing the sharp sound of his voice would pierce the wind and reach all of his men’s ears, “Ready, boy.”
There was a silence. The wind stopped.
“Let the sacrifice commence!”
The boy raised the dagger into the air in front of his chest. He held it there for a few seconds. Fear and duty were both tearing at his mind. If the boy waited any longer, he knew the brawl inside him would drive him mad. Tears violently spilled out of his eyes. The boy began to openly weep. This seemed to be the only way he could deal with the amount of stress.
Before he could wait any longer, the boy drove the dagger straight into his chest, right into his heart. A lethal wound. The boy stared at the knife in his chest, almost in disbelief. The blade felt warm. It made his whole body relax, emanating a sort of calmness throughout him. There was no blood. He would have stared at the knife forever if a light had not distracted him.
He looked up. Where the grey sky had been was replaced by an unyielding, blinding light. He could not stand to stare at it, yet he could not bear to look away. A figure began to approach him from light. It was a woman, with long, elegant golden hair. She was tall. She was naked. She was beautiful.
Massive pearly white wings flowed behind her like silk curtains. The wings did not look material, nor made of any sort of feathers. It seemed they were made of pure energy. Perfect energy.
She was an angel. She was a goddess.
She smiled, flying to the boy so calm that it was almost as if time were slowing down. The boy had never seen such a smile. So forgiving. So loving. Never would he see the equal of this angel’s look. She landed on the ground, right in front of him. Tears rolled down his face. He lunged at her, throwing his arms around her and burying his face in her breasts.
“I am sorry,” he cried, as loudly as he could, “Forgive me! Please, forgive me!”
The angel smiled. She wrapped her arms around him, embracing the boy. She radiated with such love. She felt so warm. She forgave every sin.
“Now,” Lord Aursus shouted to his men with a wild fervour, “for the honour and glory of man, now!”
The forty men leapt from their positions. Each was holding what looked like a massive crossbow, heavy and brutal. They all fired in unison. From the crossbows shot massive linked chains that flew through the air like arrows. They made horrible, deafening grinding noises as they flew.
The chains began to wrap around the angel and the boy. All the links were anchored to the ground, making movement impossible. The boy was silent, but the angel began to scream a wicked, soul shattering scream. It echoed through all of their minds.
The men began to waver. Some of them fell to the ground holding their heads, others were paralyzed. The rest ran forward, grabbing their chain and holding it down with as much strength as they could muster.
“She is ours,” Lord Aursus shouted, running toward them. “She is ours!” he repeated, “She is ours!”
The angel began to violently fight her shackles. She twisted and flailed wildly. One could not help but pity her fruitless struggle. The links were too strong, her powers too weak. She stopped moving and stared at the boy. Her smile was gone. Her radiance. Her love. She looked at him solemnly for a moment, before mouthing to him a mute ‘I forgive you.’ The boy did not want forgiveness. Not now.
“Half of you,” Lord Aursus called, “secure the restraints and prepare for her to come with us, the other half of you help the men that have fallen to her cry.” The lord looked around at his men proudly as they shuffled about the grassy field that they stood. Today, they had conquered death. Today, they had imprisoned the Angel of Passing.
