Angels and Men: Prelude to Destruction

   It is the curse of man to seek glory in battle. Even worse, he cannot realize the hopelessness of his attempts. Oh, he may feel some regret, cutting down a mother and child, a warrior may feel that the blood staining his hands will never wash away but the human race forgets all the shame and pain of taking a life, blinded by the ideals of victory. Such was the fate of mankind. To destroy itself. They never comprehended just how close to that destruction they truly were.

   It came in the form of an alien space craft that crashed into the African desert and the alien race that came to be known as 'Angels'. The Angels had left Earth millennia before, unable to remain and watch the race they had nurtured destroy itself. Angels that had soared among the satin clouds of Earth all the while weeping for man and their lost home. These angels no longer resembled those ones who had made the exodus. The heavy, choking clouds of their new home world had gradually changed them, making them more and less than they had been before. Their wings, once shimmering white, were iron-gray, 12 feet from tip to tip when extended. Their hair was black as coal, as thick and smooth as rabbit's fur. Their skin was pale, lustrous blue and so thin you could trace the veins. Their haunted eyes were colors that had never existed on Earth. It did not matter that they were kind, or gentle, or wise. It mattered only to the armies of Earth that they were different and as such could not be tolerated.

   The angels almost allowed themselves to be destroyed, so unbearable to them was the idea of violence but they had to endure. They knew nothing of war, nothing of killing. The extermination continued. It did not stop for love, it did not stop for pity's sake. Not for an angelic messenger and the warrior who would have slain him had something within her not stayed her hand, rendering her unable. She would not, could not kill him. Not when those remarkable eyes caught her and held her, beseeching her for understanding. There was nowhere they could go, nowhere they would be safe. They separated each feeling as though no meaning could ever again be found. Each continued to fight, their honor not allowing the desertion of those who still relied upon them. So bound by honor, neither could end it. Even when they met again on the battlefield. Even when they lay dying and the blood intermingled. Those left behind saw. The reminder could not be ignored. It shimmered and glowed, black as sin and white as innocence. It could not be ignored.

None can be allowed to forget what was gained by peace and what was lost to achieve it.

Author's Note