The air is heavy in the city of the Nephilim as if the people know what will happen today. A tall figure strides down the marble corridor as he makes his way to the Center. He wears the official robes of the Order of the Nephilim Peoples, the ONP. The ruling force among the winged people. This man holds incredible power within the Winged City of the Nephilim, his name is Pius and he is the leader of the Order. His hair is silver with age and wisdom from years of experience and leadership among his people, it hangs low on his back braided with a golden ribbon threaded through it. Gold is the color used to symbolize leadership, the highest level of authority used within the city. His footsteps echo the empty halls in rhythmic beats that travelers dance in time to during the Spring Festivals. The corridor ends in a drop-off cliff that looks over smooth clouds that float below the city. The man unfolds a pair of magnificent wings that shine brightly in the morning light as he prepares to lift into the air. With two strong beats, he is soaring above the temple and heading towards the edge of the city where the Center lies. Ironically, the Center is the farthest building along the western border of the Winged City but it is where most trials are held. Flying along the warm currents, he makes fast time and soon he lands swiftly beside several other white garbed people along the Center bottom. He has time to greet his companions briefly before the trial begins.
The girl brought before the Order wears tattered robes, torn from the careless treatment by the guards and the struggle when she was captured. She is led by two centennials, one on each side, and the only sound heard through the Circle is the soft jingling of her iron chains that hang from her bruised body. Her head is bent and most of her face hides beneath the veil of her hair, black as ink spilled on paper, making her light tan skin look much paler in contrast. She is forced unceremoniously onto the marble floor of the Center, hunched with defeat, awaiting her sentence for her crime. The shackles around her wrists are heavy and thick, making her look much smaller and fragile. They look uncomfortable, but not as painful as the large chain that is wrapped around her back-beautiful white wings are forcefully chained together and cramped into confinement-undoubtedly causing immense pain to the young girl. Yet she makes no sound, still as a statue, unmoving until the Order speaks. The people sit on ledges high up along the walls of the Center, murmuring their discomfort at seeing the girl treated so terribly. Some adjust their own wings, so disturbed by the terrible sight of one's wings being forced into confinement. But times are tough and there is little they can do to defy the Order. Some are outraged but others agree that harsh actions are necessary to save their people. The tall man stands and silence falls through the crowds as all eyes turn to him. His white robes move ever so slightly with the breeze that flows through the Center. He raises his hands and addresses the people,
"My dear people, we come gathered today to witness the trial of this young girl, daughter of the Nephilim, traitor to the Order. She has committed a sin that violates the sacred codes and now she must feel the wrath of the Heavens. We have been informed of the sin of this girl and it stains our race. But we are a forgiving people, repent and show your loyalty by companionship, and your sin with be forgiven. You will be welcomed back into our community with no shame on your family crest. The girl who defied the codes beside you has seen the light and chose the right path. Her sin was forgiven and now she will live a carefree life with her new companion. They will soon be expecting a child to grace their home. Do you not wish for that?" He paused, looking down to the girl, awaiting her response. The Center was silent, hundreds of people sat still, waiting to hear her answer. She remained still as a statue, no doubt feeling the heavy gazes of the people on her. She did not speak, but her answer was clear. She would not back down to the Order and to Pius.
Pius looked at her a moment more before saying, "Very well, you choose your foolish beliefs and reckless defiance then. We strive to stay on the path of the righteous and pure, our white robes indicating our pure intentions and hearts. You are responsible for influencing certain Nephilim into defying the Order and by doing so, your punishment will be far worse." Pius looks up at the people around the Center before pointing to the girl and declaring, "the robes this girl wears are black, indicating her tainted soul and to let all in the universe know of her sin."
The girl briefly lifts her head to search the crowd. Her eyes are a deep brown, flecks of gold reflecting around the edges when the sun hits them, moving frantically along the cliff walls. Then they stop, focusing on a young girl about the same age as herself with rich brown hair that sits in tight curls around her face. Beautiful tan skin and tiny freckles along her nose, she sits high above the place where she is shackled. Alongside a tall man with blonde hair that flows to his waist, tied back with a bright green ribbon. A warrior, fitting for her, the girl supposes. She bows her head again in pure exhaustion. She had once been a warrior as well, highly respected, before the new laws were passed and the Order discovered her sinful truth. The people cannot look at the girl, she has broken one of the sacred codes of the Nephilim, established when the first of their kind began to build their mighty city in the clouds. There is no forgiveness and the penalty for her crime is death. Many of them know her, yet they pretend they don't because of the embarrassment they feel, being associated with a sinner of the sacred codes.
The prisoner whispers in a voice so quiet, you would have to strain your ears to hear her.
"Love is not a sin."
The thirteen members of the Order are quick to pass judgment and soon again, the leader stands with a single key in his grasp.
"For the sins you have committed, we as the Order of the Nephilim People, broadly known as the voice of the Nephilim, declare your punishment to be exiled from Aires City, Empire of the Nephilim. Your memory shall be taken along with your sword and wings, sentenced to live a life deprived of freedom until you atone for your sins against yourself and our people."
A horn is blown, high above where the towering walls of the Center signaling the end of the trial. Soon all the Nephilim are lifting their wings and taking off back to the Winged City, Aires. The beautiful brown haired girl looked back at the hunched over figure one last time before following her companion back home in the depths of the city. It's a beautiful sight, the hundreds of wings flapping in the sunlight filtering down through the top of the Center as the people fly towards the city. Eventually, only the guards, the thirteen of the Order, and the girl are left. It is quiet, a moment of silence as everyone knows all too well what comes next.
Then, all thirteen members of the Order stand in the half-moon around the Center marble where the girl sits in chains. They each raise their right hand and focus on the girl.
"Sin must be atoned for, and your sin demands the price of blood. If you live through this, we will allow you to go into exile, but if we find you to be too weak, your death will satisfy our demands."
Suddenly, the girl cries out in pain as the chains that surround the base of her wings begin to turn red hot. Within Aires City, wings are seen as their last gift from God, freedom to roam the air as they please. To take away one's wings, would be to take away their freedom, so the Order declared her wings to be burned from her back. The forced removal of one's wings is a punishment reserved for the worst, those who have taken another life or defy the Order in the most outspoken way. People who break the sacred codes are forced to undergo the pain of their wings being burned from them. Most people die in the process, and the Order thought the same for this girl. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she cries out in agony. She falls onto her side in helplessness as the pain overwhelms her. Her screams go on for what seems like forever, until she suddenly stops, unconscious. What remains of her wings are black scars across her back, raw and bleeding from the unnatural force that ripped her freedom away. Through cracked eyes, the girl can see the Order as they finally stop the torture.
"This is to be your suffering, serve and we shall pray that you may find your way back to us again healed from your sin, our dear Raven-child."
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LOL Sorry, if you were here when I first started this story last summer, but I had to take time to rewrite a lot of the small details in my plot. Anyways... I am going for round two. College is going steady and I feel better about how this book is heading. DOn't hate me for any long pauses in the updates though, I've got a lot of stuff going on IRL.
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Falling Through Lost Time
FantasíaJune thinks she's just an average high school girl, that is until she isn't. She has friends, family troubles, and her own personal secrets. She was adopted as an infant by the Bennet family from China, but none of them could have expected how much...
