Fate and the Defiant Angel (COMPLETED)

Chapter 1- The Realm of Angels

Chapter1

'. . . cardiac arrest on December 17th. Destiny has been fulfilled. Following is the list of beings who are effected by the referenced human's death.'

Zara scanned the scroll, ensuring that all the sufficient information was printed upon it, before pulling out her stamp and sealing the scroll. She stared at her seal, wings crossed over each other and the letter A, using her thumb to brush away the drip of wax which prevented it from being a perfect circle.

A moments hesitation. One simple moment to many, and she knew it. She quickly pushed the scroll through the hole, listening to slight sucking noise as the scroll was sent to records. As soon as the death certificate had left a new one arrived. She peeled open the scroll, reading about the six-year old girl who had drowned.

Zara pulled down the scroll and felt a pang of what she knew to be pity. The list of people she would have impact upon was long, children always were. Her mother would have another child, who would live in the shadow of their sister apparently and lead to a cycle of abuse. She let her index finger trace the name of a boy not yet born, who from this record was set to die at the age of eight at the hands of the great-great nephew of this girl all due to her death. Zara stared at the extending line, intertwining so many human beings who would all be affected.

'Destiny has been fulfilled.'

Zara pressed her stamp and once again pushed the scroll into the passage which would deliver it to the records. It was then that the soft buzzer announced the end of the day. The once silent room was filled with the rustling of feathers as the angels stirred from their cubicle.

Zara took a moment to lean back in her chair and cast her eyes upwards. She let a small smile as she always did this time of day, a small expression of emotion. The air around her began to stir, paper folding up and stamps being placed to the side. The air seemed to flutter as wings were extended, and Zara watched as they ascended.

There was a perfect unison to the first wave of angels soaring up towards the ceiling, beautiful white wings extended and letting them fly. Zara allowed herself to take a minute to appreciate the gloriousness of that small action before pushing herself to her feet.

Zara's shoulders shift as she unconsciously unravelled the wings that were tucked tightly into her shoulder blades. She gave them a small wiggle, letting them fully extend, enjoying the feeling of stretching them out for the first time in hours. She bent her knees slightly and with the barest push soared upwards. She did not need to think of what to do. Her wings knew what to do, keeping her high in the air. With a slight tilt she began to glide towards one of the exits.

In perfect synchronisation the angels left, filing into orderly lines. Once she exited, she found herself in an empty hallway, no signs of anyone around her, and the door closing formally behind her.

The Angel Realm was a difficult little place to navigate. If anyone other than an angel found their way into its vast hallways and rooms, they would never be able to find their destination. It constantly changed and evolve, hallways moving and doors rotating. It was designed so that only an angel would ever be able to understand the complexity of their Realm. However, that was not to say Zara didn't get lost occasionally. There had been on instant where she'd left a room and walked down a hallway, only to open a door into the room she'd just left. No one knew that and they never could.

Yet, on this day she knew where she was going. It wasn't hard, as she'd walked towards this particular door thousands of time3. At the end of the hallway she found herself staring upon a door, the title stating that it belonged to Record Keeper.

Her species were created with a purpose. Every single angel had a job assigned to them, with twelve different categories. She herself was a Certifier. It was a simple job, the title describing it all. Her job was to receive a certificate of death from the reapers, assure that it matched with fate and mark it. She sat in a small cubicle, surrounded by greying walls with a table in front of her. On one side of her was a tube which would deposit a scroll, and on the opposite side another tube that she would send the scroll through to. All that featured on her desk was a stamp. It was a never-ending task looking upon death, one that she could admit she did not enjoy.