The Angel Fell Twice

Chapter 10. If there is a god, He revels in our misery

Marina was alone. That loneliness gnawed at her heart, as she followed the dirt path into the forest entrance. Her legs moved on their own. Patrolling the streets was all she could do. Suddenly, a woman grasping the hand of her son ran towards her, her face frantic and afraid.
"Please, knight, down the forest pathway we saw him!" the woman gasped for air.
"Who?" Marina asked calmly, her hand instinctively reaching for her hilt.
"Ragnar, the horrible beast who terrorizes Stormfell..."
"I see. Don't worry, I will rid of him..." she ran through the forest pathway.
Marina ventured deeper into the forest. She followed the overgrown trail until she stumbled upon an old, abandoned chapel with ivy-covered stone walls and shattered stained glass.
The large wooden doors creaked as she pushed them open, revealing a dimly lit interior. Dust motes floated in the air, illuminated by the fractured light filtering through the remaining stained glass. An eerie silence hung over the place, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling.
Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword as she stepped inside. At the altar, arranging wildflowers with surprising gentleness, was Ragnar. His massive frame, demon wings folded behind him, and chains lying silent on the floor, contrasted sharply with the delicate task he was undertaking.
Marina approached cautiously, her footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor. "So it is you, Ragnar," she growled, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade.
Ragnar turned his head slowly, his glowing red eyes meeting hers. Yet this time, they were filled with a profound sorrow. "Marina," he replied, his deep voice resonating through the chapel. Her grip loosened slightly.
"Your reign of terror ends today. You are to be confined and made to repent," she declared, though her hand remained on her sword, her stance wary.
Ragnar remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the flowers. Marina watched him, ready to draw her sword if needed. The silence stretched, filled only by the soft creaking of the chapel and the distant sounds of the forest.
Finally, Ragnar spoke, his voice low and bitter. "You are more naive than I thought if you believe a demon like me can still find redemption."
"You are merely lost. Atone for your sins, and you may earn forgiveness."
"Atone? I have already paid in suffering. The gods are cruel and corrupt, delighting in our torment."
Marina blinked, taken aback by his words. "Why do you say such things?" she asked cautiously.
Ragnar's eyes flashed with anger, but he did not look at her. "Look at this world," he said, his voice hardening. "Suffering, betrayal, death... If there is a god, He revels in our misery."
"Not all is dark," Marina said gently, "You have family, loved ones..."
"Family?" he scoffed. "My mother died giving birth to me, and my father cursed me before ending his own life. No one has treated me as anything more than a nuisance and a demon. We live in two different worlds, saint." he spat mockingly.
"Your losses sound unbearable, but, please. You need not be the monster that others believe you to be."
Ragnar's hands clenched into fists, crushing the delicate petals of the flowers. "Spare me your platitudes," he growled. "You do not understand."
He rose to his feet, towering over Marina. For a moment, she thought he might attack, but he only turned away, his wings flaring slightly as he moved toward the shattered window. "You play the part of a saint, but you are just as bad as all of them. You see what is on the surface. You all deserve to die." he growled. Her gaze lingered, a silent plea in her eyes, but he spread his wings and leapt through the broken window, disappearing into the forest.
Marina stood alone in the abandoned chapel, the echoes of his departure lingering in the air. Amidst the crushed flowers, one single bloom remained pure and white.