The Deamon Angel

Chapter 6: Keeping Promises

In the dream, I was in a cell again. The door opened. It made a loud, slow, screech as it moved across the floor. Two men stood in the doorway. One was a Deamon angel and the other was a Reaper. I could just barely make them out because of the light. They were dressed for battle, so I guess that they are Battle Angels.

*Battle Angels are normal angels that have chosen a permanent manifest so that they are better able to fight. A manifest is a gender. Angels are not often constricted to the same realms as an Ephemeral, meaning they can take the form of a man or woman. Often they do not survive. All are volunteers. Only in those ways are they different from any other angel.*

"This one?" a man asked.

"Definitely," the other one said.

The men walked into my tiny cell, and picked me up. My eyes weren't as used to the light, so the men were blurry to me.

"Can you walk, Jane?" one of the men said.

"How do you know my name?" I say, slowly trying to stand.

The men help me keep my balance because, in the tiny cell, I could not stand up straight.

"That's not important," the man said, taking a harsher tone.

"Let go of me, I can walk," I say, standing.

I wobble a bit, but not enough to need help.

"Can you see yet?" the other man asked.

"Sort of," I reply.

One of the men waves something in front of my eyes. Immediately my sight is perfect.

"Better?" he asked.

"Greatly. What wa-" I trailed off because I saw who it was.

Austin. The Battle Angel I met so many years ago. A friend. An ally. He had remained unchanged over the years whereas I have changed greatly. My wings, once a pristine white-silver, are now black as the night. Darker than raven feathers; darker than the deepest recesses of my bitter soul.

"Jane, you've been drafted," Austin says.

Drafted?, I thought. Austin and another angel, a ginger headed man named Jude, bound my wrists in irons, and lead me up from the corridors of the dungeon. Up, up, up until we go through a doorway into the glorious sunshine. It is warm, and I don't like it. The sun against my skin makes me look even more pale than I already am. I am led across a hallway, and pushed onto a courtyard. I am being led towards a large group of other draftees. They all look terrified. I realize that they don't know that one must volunteer for this. Even if you were drafted, like I was, you still get a choice.

"Angels," a large man yells," As most of you know, we are at war with the Soul Saints. We are going to lose this without your help. Now I know some of you don't understand the means of drafting-"

The man recited a speech about the situation. He later introduced himself as High Commander Cato. I had stopped listening for a while. My attention was brought back when Commander Cato said," Now, who will be our first volunteer."

Angels shuffled around uncomfortably. I thought about it. I have nothing left to live for anyway, why not?

I raise my hand high," I volunteer."

"Take the door to the left and follow Jude," Commander Cato instructed.

I did as he said, and followed Jude. We walked right into the armory. Jude instructed me to cross the room to the other angel man with a clipboard.