Under Heaven's Lights

prologue: apotelesma

One day, an angel fell from the sky and two years later, two angels returned to starlight cities in the sky, with brighter wings than before. The city they left behind shone with brighter light than before, too.

Atraea folded her wings behind her back, concealing them under a white parka. She zipped the coat up and buried her nose in her jacket. It wasn't that cold but compared to the warmth of the heavens, she felt awful. She dug her hands into her pockets and started walking. The plains stretched out before her, endless in their monotony and silence. Blue skies met brown ground in the far distance. There was no way to know what direction would lad to civilizaiton so she just started walking. Her boots trudged through mud and grass, picking up strands of brown and green. She pulled her hair out of her pace and looked up at the sky. It was bluer right above her, she thought, but there would be no help from the Heavens for the task before her. Closing her eyes, she stopped moving.

Her task was a mystery to her, even this far away from her starlit city. Until she discovered and completed her task, the gates of the Heavens would remain closed to her. Like every angel before her, before she could take her place in the guarde of pearl gates. She had to earn her position-- and Atraea would, with the grace of the Heavens.

She resumed her pace, pressing on with renewed determination. This was her final test; the white cloaks, layered over gold and white robes flashed in her mind. Flaming swords and bright circlets, the uniform of the honored guarde. After centuries of training, it was in sight. Everything she had worked for. Her task might take decades to complete but that was an inconsequential passing of time for an immortal angel like her.

In the far distance, right where the horizons met, there was a black shadow growing with every step she took. Skyscrapers grew from the ground, silhouetted against the sky. Her pace quickened in excitement: the sooner she found a city, the sooner she could discover her task.

It rose out of the ground, a spiralling mass of towers and windows, everything in sharp contrast and angular proportions. They trapped their people in black masses and dark skies. Atraea shivered. It was imposing, threatening. If the city had a spirit, it was not a welcoming one. The air of the place was oppressive. She felt it change when she took her first step into the city streets and out of the plains. The white of her parka shone against her new surroundings like a single star flashing in a midnight sky of inky trails.

She ducked into a large street, sprawling with shops and restaurants. Humans slipped in and out in their brightly colored coats and hats. Several of them waved and smiled at her as they passed. Just as many bowed their heads and looked away. She frowned at the reactions. It was hardly as if she stood out; there were enough white parkas looking around that didn't warrant the same reaction. Her white wings were safely tucked away in the puffy coat. She adjusted the hat on her head so it covered her ears better. Then, she tucked her hands back into her pockets and set about exploring her new home.

A hundred years ago, an angel left the safety of the Heavens to wander the earth. He wanted to bring some good with the music he created, beyond the pearly cities of starlight. He donned a blue parka and tucked his wings away. As he wandered countries and continents, Simon learnt about the importance of music to humans. His guitar always strung on his back, a selection of picks in his pocket, and an endless array of cities to change still ahead of him; he had no intentions of leaving the earth.

He hadn't tried returning to the heavens; there was no mission tying him to earth but Simon was keenly aware of something still missing. He could feel the tug of God's threads around him; it was clear he needed to be here, though he did not know why yet.