Soul of an Angel

Cold, hushed black walls succor me. This darkness becomes attached to whatever soul ventures into its ample arms. It’s demonic, domineering and vicious. How was it that I ended up in it? Oh, right, I was detained. Deveroux our current enemy, has won. .

A demon’s baleful thoughts imprison those it comes in contact with. It takes faith and hope to sever bonds from such a demon, though I have none. Only something of a holy god could do that. And, I, conveniently, have no god to look toward to free me from my damnation.

Ah, do you feel the darkness embrace you with its feathered claws? The miserable feeling it sends through your body destroys the hope. Demons love the anguish they cause. This one must be in ecstasy. There is no hope; I know there are no days in my nights. I see no walls and no sun, no days, only fearful nights.

There once was faith in this conquered soul. But, I say in regret, the demon infatuated my soul beyond my ability to fight back. Therefore, faith and hope are an optimists words, not those of a pessimist’s--which I have become.

At night and night only, do their boots snuggle into my ribs to check this soul’s life that mingles in its fleshy penitentiary. I am alive; my demons still nourishing your damned. A ominous death is their only way of granting me a further existence. In that treatment, they succeed at making me despise myself for being a kami no sasagerarata - or Shinsei, then they know I will obsess and become what they aspire of me.

Apparently, even the souls of Hell cannot begin to feed these demon souls. Perhaps I make a difference to Hell’s minor collection of souls, or they are thanking my unwilling departure of my soul and an unhurried death. Either way, I am death’s and a prisoner of Deveroux.

Daylight is supposed to bring hope and pleasure to the beings that dabble in it’s love. For this damned soul, it only tells me of my awaiting fate, or perhaps it is destiny. Either way, the demons insist that I accept it so I must.

A wooden platform, standing a good six feet high and made of a light chestnut wood, seems to have been freshly lumbered for my execution. How plain. It lacks anything to hint at how I am to die, or perhaps raise the morale of my captors. Strong arms that desired I face the demons that had taken my soul lifted me onto the platform. My body sagged from lack of food and water. My head weighed so much that it hung down towards the platform. Matted hair covered my face and hid my lifeless expression. A grungy appearance is all I had to offer to those looking upon me now. I am sure that had pleased Deveroux to no end and into a pleasuring ecstasy. Of course, I looked nothing like I had been perceived by many. How I had been perceived by many? I was the leading general of my

King’s army. That is why I am such a jewel to have been captured by our enemy, the kingdom of Deveroux. Also it was rumored, and it be true, that I was a military genius in tactics and strategies. I hope that explains why I was destined to die.

Does death, execution, really mar? Does it hurt as much as slicing through ones muscle, and feeling the pain and bother for months? The optimistic would say, “yes death is hasty“, did they ever descend into death’s hands? Perhaps then, if they had, could they have said the same response: Death is transient? Death is eternal. I will let you know that any mental attempt to comprehend what death and demons feel like, it is a Hell no mind can fathom until experienced. Then, of course, say you were tolerable by your gods will to be acknowledged into their love? I promise that there would be no anguish.

Death is a bitter apprehension that changes the soul. It nestles in a soul deep and tight. Every contemplation that was ever possibly conceived by hope, love, optimism, pleasure, joy--smiles, anything and everything becomes minuscule and pathetic as death asphyxiates its life essence from you. Death becomes infatuated with the love in a being, and then annihilates love by way of insufferable pain

A gentle breeze from Azul caressed my cold skin, why was I even aware of it? I suppose the demon wishes me to feel, while I still have that ability. Azul, god of the North Wind is my only godly witness to my crossing from mortal to a damned Hell.

Demons, they are all emotionless and hasty in the way they conduct the ruin of bodies to yield their souls. Is that all they want, another slave to produce souls from contemptible people? Now, no, I am not saying I possibly do not deserve this. Not at all, what I am saying is some people who are purely guiltless of any deeds in life should not be soiled with a demon’s sensation.

Control by any demon in a soul is nothing to wish upon the most damned bastard alive; save Hell’s master. Their gods have a better punishment awaiting them once they abscond a temporary skeleton. I must have incensed some god. Come to think of it, I have on no account had one. Maybe this is why I am being condemned to a Hell of some realm. I have no god, so the gods all wish me dead? Speculation only, of course.

“Let go, he won’t attempt to escape, he hasn’t the strength anymore.” a voice chuckled happily as he walked onto the platform. The muffled patter of leather boots from the Deveroux soldiers relaxed as they came to a stop in front of the chestnut platform. “Men, you now look upon the once mighty General Domo Laodegan. Does he look as if he were such a known strategist? Maybe even a military genius to the elfin kingdom of Alder? A perfect elfin of the Kami no Sasagerata; or more commonly known as the Shinsei. Alder, pathetic Alder; yet it is a beautiful kingdom I must say. Lovely race of Shinsei yes, but they shall fall under our force!” General Nahemah spoke with anger and passion for his rival in battle. Nahemah snorted in disgust at Laodegan. “What would you, my people, that we should do to this unworthy man?” Nahemah smiled as men yelled out in demented pleasure the most sufferable ideas of possible torture.

I knelt there in a hunched, defeated body. The cries and laughs, curses of damnation upon my soul, wishes that I suffer slowly; they seemed to have an endless plan as to how I seemed to be fit to die; they kept coming and soon became a dull noise that I no longer recognized as voices. Rather, they were murmurs of demons cackling at me. These demons in these men gave them ideas. So I see, Hell has become Deveroux’s patron. I understand now.

“Ah, such lovely ideas. So many, unfortunately, we can only do one due to the limited time.” Nahemah gave his men a large demented smile. “Come men, bring him to the banner poles.”

Deveroux soldiers lifted me up and drug me behind their general. As we walked, they spat insults at me and cursed my existence. These men called me a pestilence to society and said that if I had only died when I was rumored to, nothing would have happened so dramatically. They mean that the last seven wars between Deveroux and Alder would have been verbal transactions to discuss our problems.

I almost died at the hands of a Kavanagh assassin, though luckily I saw him enter my chamber and killed him. I kept the speculation that Deveroux was the patron to that assassin. Officials in my army and the king himself suspected them. But, we were at peace and to break a war out when the lands were prospering was not worth it. Besides, I was alive and safe. At the time that was all that mattered.

“Gather some chains and cuff his wrists. Tie strong rope to the loops and hoist him up between these poles. Be sure to do the same to his ankles.” Nahemah yelled out his orders in such a thrilled tone that his men raised brows to one another as they scrambled to and fro to collected everything to display their catch of the day for all to see.

They harshly slapped the metal onto my wrists and ankles, then they tied the rope to the rings; the Deveroux soldiers pulled me up to the very top, it was a good twenty to thirty feet high. Below me, the general Nahemah and his soldiers looked up at me with smiles of victory. They had won, I was captured, slowly dyeing and on my way to being a corpse that was a trophy to their kingdom.

After a while of their gloating at me and my lifeless replies to their taunts, insults, damned words to my soul, they were brushed away to do their commanders orders. Occasionally, men on the way to their duties would yell up at me and say something to tear at my mind, then laugh in victory as they strolled away.

Mid afternoon glided into the night over our lands for the time being. I could still feel the demons tearing at my mind and licking at the essence of my soul, tempting me to die faster; but only as slow as they would allow me. The bastards were perfect at their art their art of tempting the dying to wish for death sooner yet they purposely make sure you are able to live and suffer until you’re allowed to die right when you could be saved and continue living.

A warm, gentle hand picked up my sunken head and pulled it up to set it and myself eye level with one another. Then the, being brushed my long dark brown hair from my eyes. “You don’t want to die do you? Sir Laodegan?” The voice was a woman’s, a sweet sound to all the pain that kept penetrating my mind. “Are you able to speak Sir Laodegan?”

My dimmed brown eyes dared to look upon this blessing that had to be a dreamed up torment of my demons. It had to be, nothing so beautiful and loving would dare come to me now. Nothing wished my life to continue, I belong to the demons; they own my soul.

Before me in mid air I saw something only a gods heaven could produce. A beautiful winged angel looked at me in worry, was she concerned? Her large pale blue eyes watched me carefully as I stared at her in fear, awe and wonder. Long blue hair floated just as she did in the night. She was clad in a top and a two piece skirt that joined at the sides. There was nothing unique about her dress, but her presence overwhelmed my---soul…..”What….who….” I could barely ask anything with out my throat going hoarse and fading.

The dream smiled at me. “I was sent to save you Sir Laodegan.”

“Save me?” I barely even managed as I fell into a coughing fit.

“Yes, I am your angel sent by He himself. He said that you have been given something within you that many a man does not possess. He wishes you to do his will and your kingdoms.” the dream explained to me. Her voice was such a calming thing to hear that I started to drift off into a pleasant slumber. The dream smiled at Laodegan. “My lord Laodegan, I will take you from these bonds of the Hell that opposes Him and bring you into my arms; his safety and my own.” she cooed in a beautiful tone.

With only the lightest of touches on the cuffs of Laodegan’s wrists, the bonds of Hell were freed from his wrists and ankles. Gently the dream pulled Laodegan onto her shoulder and flew off and away from the encampment of Deveroux and its men.

My eyes flickered to this strange feeling, light had awoken me. Slowly they adjusted to this marvelous light that they had been deprived of for so long. Sitting in the cloak of soft yet bright light was the dream. She was still among me? But why? Her pale blue eyes searched my enigma strewn face and then she smiled. “Are you feeling any better?” she asked me softly.

I kept watching her briefly, just to make sure I was not dreaming on my way to death. Another sweet smile told me I was alive, and safe. “More than any man will ever understand.” I replied in a whisper.

The dream seemed pleased with my answer. “Well, that’s quite a delight to hear from your lips my lord. Now, will you allow me to set you up so that I might feed you? You do look rather beaten.” she jested to me gently as she came over to me and sat me up.

“I thank you, and I owe you my life.” I told her as I forced my meager strength to hold my head up and look at her as I spoke.

She shook her head. “No, not at all my lord. You owe me nothing. I am only acting on mine and my Lords desires for you to continue life on this world of yours.” She smiled at me as she spooned me some broth with a few tender vegetables in it. I ate dying in pleasure to the taste of food in my mouth.

“Who are you.” I asked her kindly. “You seem to know all about me.”

The dream giggled. “I seem to do I? Well, I barely know anything more than what I’ve told you my lord. But, as you wish. I am Levina.” She replied as she fed me another spoonful.