Angels of a Feather (Kid Icarus fanfic)

1. Lost in a Familiar World

To be honest, I have no idea how I got there. Or what I was doing there.

I was just suddenly... there.

I struggled to consciousness on a soft, fluffy bed piled with thick quilts in a white room bathed in a warm, sourceless light. It was pretty small, with no windows or furniture, except for the bed and a tiny nightstand with one drawer. A wreath of feathers hung on the wall by a simple framed picture. A cozy rug covered a large part of the marble floor, acting as a kind of miniature carpet.

I realized I could hear running water and sat up slightly to get a better look. A sink - like one you'd see in the bathroom - stood off in the far corner near the door with a perfectly round mirror just above it.

At it, a person was rinsing a cloth with their back turned to me, but I could still see that he had on a clean, white shirt-thing edged in red trim that went down to the back of his knees and was tied off with a thin, leather belt just above his waist. He had tall, boot-like sandals that went about mid-calf and were buckled at his ankles, and neat, reddish-brown hair with a scarlet laurel wreath wrapped around the back of his head.

But easily his most prominent feature was the pair of enormous, feathery white wings sprouting between his shoulder blades. Layered, thick, and strong, the tips of the primary feathers went down past his waist by a few inches.

I couldn't stop myself from staring for a few minutes.

What the heck?!

Was I dead?!

I mean, there was a freaking ANGEL standing in front of me!

He must have heard me move - I had pushed myself up onto my elbows - because he turned around and, with a friendly smile, said, "Oh, good, you're awake."

I couldn't find my voice. I opened my mouth but no words came out. Who was this guy? I didn't recognize his slim but fair face or see anything in his rich amber eyes. He looked older than me but too young to be my father... however old that was.

So who was he?

Wringing out the cloth, he closed the distance between us and pressed the cool fabric to my forehead. I sat there, trembling and unsure what to do. The angel looked me in the eye and asked gently, "How do you feel, Aurora?"

Aurora? Who - wait, that was me. That was my name.

...How did he know that? Did I actually know him?

"I..." I stuttered, finally choking some words out. "...Who are you?"

The angel paused and got a sad look in his eye. "You don't remember me?" he asked, like he knew what the answer was but just wanted to be sure.

I shook my head slowly. I even tried REALLY hard to remember him, but... Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The angel gave a tiny sigh and stood up, taking the cloth off my head and laying it on the side table nearby. As he walked to the door on the far side of the room, he said, "Stay here and rest for a bit - I need to fetch something from... ah, my supervisor. I'll be back in just a moment." He opened the door and was halfway through it when he stopped and turned back to me. "One more thing," he said with that friendly smile returning. "My name's Viridian. Maybe that'll help you remember." Then the door closed behind him and I was left alone in warm silence.

I just sat there, by myself, for a while. What do I do now? Wait for him to come back? I didn't plan on disobeying this Viridian guy, but I was getting a little antsy. Very carefully, in case I actually was injured, I lifted the quilts off myself and was about to swing my legs out of the bed when I felt something strange under my right hand. It was small and cool, but very smooth - almost unnaturally. I looked down at it and found a perfectly flat, rectangular... block of plastic?