Serafa's Teaser

A pivotal point in Serafa's life is brought to light as she discovers that full powers of an adult Angel, but while the Cherubim's wings remain white, hers have become the black marks of the Nephilim.

Serafa’s Teaser.

 

They didn’t know what to do. Rushing streams of water were the only disturbances to an alien world of silence that engulfed the square. Blades in hand, the dozen or so winged warriors viewed her now with wonder and curiosity, slowly twisting into fear and recognition. One particular pair of eyes ground into Serafa’s as if she had taken her own life before his eyes. The angel’s own surprise was prudent, obvious, but the undeniable truth was in the white feathers that now littered the ground around her. Like snakes, they writhed and shifted back into fine strands of white, slowly consumed by black where they began to swirl in circular motions, angling back to her bare feet, which were planted squarely on the golden cobblestones. In a matter of seconds, the black threads merged with skin, and like veins they crawled back up her body, now bared from her previous fit.

The training was over. The academy graduates stared alongside their teachers as Serafa gasped and choked, trembling. One hand was held up, motioning for them to stop. Her sword had long fallen from her limp fingers, and now gleamed a few feet away.

“Fallen?” her class-mate asked in disbelief as his own wings widened. His stance shifted as he gripped his sword. Serafa’s eyes were trained on Shemaq, their captain, their master. The hardened eyes now became narrowed as his stance too, shifted. The gilded flooring rushed upwards as Serafa’s knees collided with it. Her palms hit it next, holding her on all fours as strange emotions and doorways washed over her. Things seemed different, more open, easily manipulated.

“Stand back!” Nell was snarling, her white teeth gleaming as she readied herself for the slaughter. Serafa looked up, unable to move as Shemaq’s true power clutched her. His elements held her down, while her own feebly waved like a babe’s. Confusion was the only evident emotion Serafa could feel, but it wasn’t enough to convince the one figure she had grown to trust and believe in.

“Open yourself,” he growled, crouched in front of her. Her lips parted to speak, but before any sound could spill forth, her tongue was pinned down as three fine strands stopped her, probed deeper. Gagging, she tried to move her hands to push them away but nothing happened. Her black elements now clashed with her master’s pure white ones, but the white serpents found openings in the black layer, forcing them away, carving a path to her mind to find the truth.

“Not,” she managed, eyes red and rolling from her lack of breath. Her nails dug into the stonework. She could no longer hear the others, or the river. Nothing but the Cherubim in front of her filled her senses. He had never been so close to her, but the power was terrifying. There was no gentle encouragement or words if wisdom, no understanding. It had all washed away the second the purity of her soul had, fallen, as her wings had done like leaves only to resurrect themselves as the dark markers of a tainted soul, a soul of sin. A Fallen. But what had she done? Nothing.

His lips moved. She had the sensation that they were not alone, but where she didn’t know. The world around her was awash with black and white, fighting currents that roiled and rolled, and in it all, Shemaq’s face remained unmoving before her, until at last, she felt something shift. A piece of the puzzle fell into place as her mind suddenly found reason. An explosive outburst saw them both soar back thirty feet from each other. Serafa’s back hit solid wall, knocking the breath from her lungs, while Shemaq merely adjusted himself.

“I have not done anything!” she screamed, trying to get it out before he rushed her again. The cool tip of his blade levelled at her throat drew silence as she swallowed and stared at him, chest heaving, black wings outstretched against the wall as if they too, were pinned. The black elements had slipped together to form the three pairs of eagle-like appendages, now complete.

Serafa could see his eyes tracing the lines, filled with contempt, but something else too " uncertainty? Everyone else was gone. The streets of New Jerusalem seemed abandoned. Shemaq’s eyes drilled into hers still, demanding.

“Withdraw them,” he said in a level tone. Daring a glance at her left wing, she turned her head back to him slowly, the feeling of vulnerability never more present than now. Withdrawing her elements would not only leave her spiritually exposed, but physically as well. Shuddering, she knew there was no other choice, and she trusted that as a Cherubim, he would grace her with her modesty.

The fine rudiments split as the wings dissipated and slowly withdrew into her shoulder blades, filling her core with their energy again. The black markings which had graced her forearms, breast, torso, legs and other areas faded too. Her appearance was now that of a mortal.

His blade lowered. Serafa felt relief flood her veins, until his hand shot out, pressed flat between her chest where her main life force sat, centred over what humans knew as their solar plexis. Before she could even gasp, she knew what was going to happen. Her senses became non existent as she was forced to run through the memories Shemaq was opening and perusing. Her thoughts and emotions laid bare in the most violating intrusion that could be performed among their kind. Her essence flickered and wavered uncertainly as crevices were explored. Any anger, hatred, love, care, revealed.

Serafa came back to her body to find Shemaq frowning. The feel of his warm hand against her bare skin was strangely alienating. She swatted it away as her back slid down the wall and everything crashed over her, leaving her a shuddering mess of black hair and re-emerging elements. It was the first time she had cried in a long time, the first time she had cried so openly, and it was not for the memories but for the sheer feelings that trapped her. It was too much. The violation of her soul had been too much.

“You are not a Cherubim,” the rhetorical sentence. With her arms wrapped her knees, and eyes now glaring out from behind black curtains, Serafa said nothing as the sobs racked her body. But, his tone hadn’t been hateful. Once more, his face filled her vision, a thing she now felt repulsion at, she wanted to cause him pain for what he had done " but a small part of her wanted his acceptance still, his understanding.

“But you are not a Fallen, either…” his voice was musing. Was there no remorse for what had just occurred? Serafa moved her arms apart, sniffing deeply, keeping her façade up so the hatred wasn’t there to be read.

“If you know why this has happened, why don’t you enlighten me?” she said through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to attack, though her wings were beginning to form. His own shot out like lances, and while there was no pain, the feeling of being helpless overcame her again as the elements were rendered useless. Her power source.

“Because I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. But there’s no sin on you. Not yet.”

Serafa stared at him. Before she could control herself, her hand had lashed out to slap him. His strength and speed proved faster, catching her wrist an inch from his face where he held it, unblinking, unmoved. Time seemed to still as they exchanged stares, neither bending.

Unexplainable rage at being stopped slowly pushed her. She pulled her hand back as gently as she could and took a calm breath. Shemaq stood up, releasing her wings, standing back to evaluate. Without warning they formed a wall and shunted him back as she rushed upwards and into the sky. She summoned her illegal Gate, and through it, grasped several daggers from another location, before she hurled them downwards.

Not one reached their target. Her Gate failed as she was dragged backwards through the sky, but the rage had died within her suddenly. Whatever had overcome her had left, leaving behind a bleary-eyed figure as Shemaq spun her around to face him. Once more, his mind invaded hers, and once more it left the confusion only to find it within the confines of his own spirit.

“Leave,” he hissed, close to rage himself. Serafa stepped back, her feet holding her weight in thin air as her rudiments swirled into wings once more behind her, moving like they were in water.

“I don’t know what"“

“Leave!” this time his soul shouted it across the planes. The compelling command was too strong to deny or question. Serafa felt old wounds open as she fought back the abyss of misery, but her wings already powered her. The glowing city, holy and only capital of Earth, was left behind as her figure disappeared across foreign territory.

I haven’t Fallen… have I?

Author's Note

First draft. I enjoy writing teasers as it gets me in the mood for each character.

Reviews

[Twilight]

I must admit, this is one of the better pieces of writing on this site. Good wording, a clear structure and even a little humour in irony? In places, this does have a slightly surreal atmosphere. Perhaps, that was intended by the writer? Either way, some readers may think that appropriate in view of the angelic characters depicted in this narrative? Or, is it lacking respect - or even blasphemous to do this? Whatever one's point of view, this is quite enjoyable to read and interesting. Thankyou, Katreya! Keep writing..!

[Tina Kline]

I really like this. Fantastic and excellent writing and well developed and interesting characters.