Angel/Demon AU

Ch; 2

Story cover created by Amy_CP

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The last thing he'd expected to find today was this.

The daemon had been patrolling his small territory when he'd come across the thick metallic scent of blood hanging heavy in the air, that could only mean injured prey or an injured intruder; Both of which were easily enough dealt with.

The chances of any other daemon intruding on his territory were painfully low, for this man held his horned head high and his scaled tail just above the ground, golden wings folded neatly behind him and clawed hands resting at his sides, claws which were not often sheathed. Yes, this daemon was a lucky one, or unlucky dependent on who you may ask. This man was a dragon hybrid, a daemon capable of flight, and one of the few of his kind.

With angels 'purifying' their skies nearly all flying demons had been wiped out so long ago. The hunt and chase game continues to this day, but with angels getting confident that almost no winged beasts remain, it was less frequent; but of course no less brutal.

That's why it was such a surprise, that when the dragon demon came across a fallen angel in his territory, utterly injured, unconscious, and free for the taking; he didn't kill him. Didn't finish the job. He couldn't tell you why.. He himself did not know the reasoning his subconscious brain used.

It was a near thing, for his utter hatred of the fuckers told him to slit the blacked haired man's throat and toss him to the wolf pack down river. Instead, the demon approached the angel, studying the feathered wings at his back, though they were horribly mangled.

Such cruel things, angels were, that they'd do this to their own..

All the better for the daemon, though.

With a huff he turned back down the path he'd come, hoping that the angel would survive a few minutes alone; it would be quite annoying to come all the way back and find him dead, after all. But if that fall hadn't killed him, there was a good chance this wouldn't either, not quite yet.

The walk was quick and the house was, well, more of a hut. Doorless, wooden walls and sectioned rooms that connected to the cliff face behind the house, though it was not nearly as advanced or.. architecturally sound as the angel's creations, it was still a place to call his own. It was to the room furthest back, the one carved into the stone of the cliff itself, that the daemon went. For his hoard lay in that room, and what he needed to retrieve lay in the hoard.

Daemons and angels were enemies in this world, for what reason no one truly knew, but it was cemented by the fact that they couldn't so much as touch one another.

For a daemon to touch an angel, and vice versa, was to get wicked burns upon contact. But there were ways to bypass whatever magic made this as such. Rare, difficult ways, but ways none the less; and the daemon was wearing one now.

A silver bracelet with shimmering green stone embedded into the metal, just enough to touch skin. The stone was rare, extremely so, and therefore angels wanted it. Of course they did.

So they turned what they could find into jewelry, only the most elite would ever see it, let alone wear it. They cared not for the magical properties - and to touch a daemon for any reason but to kill it was just a blasphemous idea in their eyes - it was for the shimmering, gorgeous shine that the material was coveted.

The dragon daemon could not truly blame them for that, for it was beautiful and shiny, and that's why he often wore the jewelry piece. He had multiple sets, bracelets made from the same stones, therefore imbueing them with magical energy, for it did not work so well if the stones were foreign to each other. How'd he'd gotten these sets?