The Odd Tale of James Darkfall Vol. 1

Prologue

My father was an angel, or so he told me. When I was a young child, still captivated by bedtime stories, he would tell me the story of how he fell to earth. He would sit on my bed, cross his arms and ask me in his wised and weary voice, "so, where did we leave off?" He would tell it to me so frequently that I have it memorized.

It was a lifetime ago, and yet I remember it as if it were yesterday. My brothers and sisters in Heaven were all so angelic, they had a radiant glow about them that made the whole place unnervingly bright. And they were ever so strict as well. The whole ethereal plane is hyper focused upon appearance. Your wings must be at this angle and your halo must be shined and straightened and your clothes must not have a speck of lint or dust on them. Of course that only mattered when you were at work. Once you had off time, you were free to do whatever you pleased. A surprising amount of angels frequent Earth in their spare time. Hence where our story begins.

My friends and I would often stage sword fights for fun at night. There's a train yard in England we would touch down in, swords at the ready. It was a game at first, just two of us fighting but it soon became how we settled disputes. Myself, Asthenop, Seranthina and Ferthrano would face off in four way battles whenever we could. Every once in awhile an elder would catch us and give us a gentle reminder not to linger in the mortal world too long, for "at first sight from mortal eyes, we lose our wings". We were all moderately skilled sword fighters, which meant every battle we would improve off of one another. However, as time went on, Ferthrano slipped behind the rest of us. He would violently slash the ground and curse when he lost, and as time went on, he would lose consistently.

We all could tell Ferthrano was drifting away from us more. He spent less time with us and rarely showed for sword fights. When we did see him, he looked off. His halo was dulled, and he had bags under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping. I pulled him aside to talk to him one day after work, and when he spoke, it sounded as if two voices were talking, his voice and a quieter deeper one.

"Ferthrano, are you feeling okay? You look sickly and pale, like you haven't slept in ages."

"I'm fine, don't be concerned. (Who needs sleep when we've got all this power)?"

"What was that? Did you mumble something under your breath just now?"

"No. I'm fine, leave me alone."

He walked away in a hurry, mumbling to someone.

Later that evening, we met to sword fight as a group. However, before we could start, Ferthrano declared he wanted to fight me one on one to prove his skills. I reluctantly agreed.

The second our swords clashed I knew he wasn't himself. His skin pulsed with ink black veins, and he moved impossibly fast. I barely kept up with him as we partied each other nonstop for minutes. Then I lost my grip on my sword and he didn't hesitate to strike.

I felt the blood soak my shirt before I realized he had cut all the way across my chest. The others barely managed to step towards me before and Elder descended and froze time. "Ferthrano, you have deceived us. You harbor black magic, do you not?" Ferthrano stood still, his skin still pulsing before he thrust a hand towards me and shouted, "I bind thee to my brother to save myself!" The minute the inky substance crossed into me I felt like my skin was on fire. I collapsed in a spastic fit of convulsions as Ferthrano was bound by the Elder and sent back up for trial. My friends came rushing over, Asenthop cradling my head while Serathina shouted and pleaded with the elder to help me.

"He is lost to the darkness now, I cannot save him. You shall bear witness in the trial of the Deciever."

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital, being told  by a nice nurse I had lost a lot of blood and received a transfusion.

I could feel how human I was now. When you're an angel, you feel very light, almost like you're made of the very clouds you stand on. Humans, on the other hand are very heavy. My wings were gone. So many humans had seen me that this was an indisputable fact. I was no longer an angel.

He would always stop there and pause before getting up and saying, "Ah, would you look at the time. You should be asleep, James. Get some rest." Then he would hug me and turn out my light on his way out the door.

This is the best memory of my father I have. Most of it has blurred together into the normal family activities one experiences.

The saddest part is that my mother didn't show up for his funeral. In fact, I haven't seen her in 15 years, after I left for college and cut ties with her.

However, this is not about her. This is about myself, and a strange girl I met one day at the university I work at. Because believe me, that may not sound like the best opening, but you'll want to stick around.

My name is James Darkfall, and my father was an angel.
And I'm what's left of his curse.