The Bad Fairy (girlxgirlxgirl)

2. Blue Teardrop Crystal

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When the moon hits its closest distance to the world, on the 200th day of the 2999th year, the goddess shall open her palm to resurrect the crystal of all crystals into the hands of all kinds.

"Did you come here to die?"

The wind softly blows past the trees, ruffling its leaves and sending waves of glittering dust to the green grass below. The air is full of enchantment, a blue sky covered by green, purple and bluish treetops. White and gently pink petals fall from the flowers on the trees above, adding to the glimmer and beauty in the soft air around them. It's warm, but not too much to be felt on the skin. The sun is shining just a little bit, barely seen in the shadows of the blue forest.

"You're too egoistical, angel"

And there, somewhere deep in that forest, a demon appears from the shadows of the nearest tree, keeping her eyes on an angel hiding somewhere up in the treetops.

"And you are a bad judge of character, demon"

The rusty, thin gates of the glimmering blue forest garden are just a few steps away from them. The demon can nearly see the gates from where she stands, see its enchanting sparkle and promise of power and might. It's been almost three thousand years since anyone last saw those gates and she'd very much like to be the first one.

But, like always, there is an angel in her way.

It's so annoying. The demon drags her fangs over her lower lip and draws blood, tasting it, and squeezes the shaft of her sword harder. She glances up at the tree where she can sense the angel. "Can I see the face of the angel brave enough to threaten me?" Digging her feet into the soft grass, wet from the morning dew, she tilts her head and waits for the smallest of sounds. Her entire body is tense, waiting, her tongue slowly dragging over the self-made bruise on her lip. Blood flows into her mouth and feeds her lust for more.

After a second of silence, she hears a soft swishing sound in the air, gentle and precise. It's an angel, that much she is sure of. Only an angel makes such a sound when flying through the air, as light as a feather, and yet as heavy as a sledgehammer coming towards you. She gathers momentum, breathes in the fresh but thick middle-realm air before lunging forwards. Her rather large black wings spread out like two shadows as she drags out her sword, the sound of the metal clinging not having time to reach the air before she has stopped right in front of the white-winged creature.

Usually, the speed of her movement is enough to slice whichever creature it is into two whole parts, before they can even realise what has happened. She slices through the air, precise and calculated as always, right through where she knows the angel stands. But unlike most creatures, this one does not give up so easily. With a feather-like lightness, the angel jumps backwards to avoid her sword, and lands gently against the grass. The angel tilts her head in a form of greeting.

"Are you the demon Anemone?"

The angel looks like a strange opposite of her. Golden hair that reaches down to her shoulders, a stoic and well-defined face with wide green eyes and golden rings around the irises. Wide shoulders, a tall height and strong arms. A white dress with a light golden armour loosely placed here and there on her body and a high nose that matches her ice cold expression. Anemone wants to laugh. It's an archangel. What luck! Note the sarcasm.