Redivinity

[Valdar and Astralis]

/*This is a story I initially wrote for the Exalted RP, as well as an initial story after Kitanue's fall from grace many years before meeting Valdar. Unfortunatley, I made a slight oversight with the fact that Exalted does not support an Astral Plane, Multiversum, nor angels. By the time you read this, you may recognize most of the story being the same as one I may have in the Conservatory with a modified character. But this was the original, and fairly close to what I had in mind for Kitanue's life just after her fall. Enjoy.

 

Addentum: After a fall from grace, Angels that do not plummet into the heart of Hell land on mortal worlds. There, they are exiled to live a hundred years as a mortal, before being allowed to ascend and claim their wings once more. Even then, they are tarnished with grey wings and considered outcast. Most regard "Grey wings is better than no Wings", however.*/

 

In the darkness of her mind, Kitanue dreamed.

 

The empty numbness was worse than the wracking pain before. The pain let you know which parts of you were still attached. She struggled to hang on to the memory of pain, her ineffectual struggling as the black robed one's stretched her body across the alter.

 

As though conjured by the memory the pain returned. A tear gathered at the corner of her eyes, squeezed tightly shut as they were.

 

The voice of the high angel was nearly drowned out by her screams. The Solaris shone with the brightness of the sun below his black hood proclaiming divine justice, raising the knife high above her body. The other lesser angels bowed their heads as he brought it down. Piled below were the bodies of nearly a hundred angels, a fatalistic and grim expression on each one's face.

 

Her mouth twisted and opened slightly. Kitanue choked slightly, and half whispered names poured forth. "Faitha, Ardreus, Malenyth, Mandine. . ."

 

The knife fell, cold steel glinting in the blaze of righteous fury before plunging deep into the base of her left wing. A final scream escaped her throat, echoing throughout the empty Planewalker fortress. Hungry for celestial blood, the blade rose again. . .

 

Kitanue's hand reflexively reached over her shoulder. Her fingers dug into scarred flesh, and she shivered.

 

There was a horrible tearing sensation as the lesser angels pulled the wings from her body. Just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped, and she was an angel no more. Bloody hands dragged her from the alter and she fell against the pile of corpses, sobbing uncontrollably. The lesser angels turned to their next prisoner, Aurel's normally stoic face tinged with terror.

 

Her fingers tightened convulsively and the wound broke open, adding another bloodstain to the ragged dress as the tears flowed openly at last. Half awake, the whore next to her mumbled something and rolled over. Hugging herself, she drifted into a dreamless sleep, savouring the pain.

 

*

 

A rough kick to the ribs brought Kitanue awake. She muttered a few choice curses and rolled over, covering her eyes with one hand. The corpse collector grunted and kicked one of the others she was sharing the gutter with. Finding no response, he gleefully seized the body by it's legs and dragged it towards his cart. An apprentice quickly hopped down to strip anything of value from the corpse before marking it. The two of them then piled the dead woman atop the dozen other corpses before driving away.

 

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Kitanue rose slowly and staggered over to a nearby water through. She paused and gazed at her scattered reflection - a mortal woman in bare rags, no aura of divinity, pointed ears nor wings to mark her kind. Mentally, she counted off another day, the sixty seventh since she was exiled to this forsaken world. After cleaning herself the best she could Kitanue turned to find four women standing by the alley mouth. Sensing slim pickings, she picked up a small bundle of belongings and set out for Market Street.

 

Market Street was crowded by the time she arrived, with the sun about to crest noon. Kitanue made her way through the crowd of beggars and street vendors, hitching her ragged skirt up to the waist to reveal the guild tattoo on her thigh.

 

Quite suddenly, she felt a knife at her back. Useless muscles on her back rippled reflexively, but without wings, it was all she could do to freeze. A rough voice crooned over her shoulders. "You and I are going to take a side trip, lass - down the next side street."

 

The skinny man guided her off the main street and into the twisting maze of alleys and out of sight. Roughly, he prodded her towards three other men loitering in the dim streets. Kitanue's heart sank as she spied a foot sticking out behind piles of rubbish. These were not thieves. Sensing her realization the largest of the trio grinned, showing decayed teeth.

 

"Ya want to strip first whore? Bloody clothes are hard to sell aye."

 

The knife moved up to her throat, and Kitanue tensed. Just as the gang leader was about to nod, the air turned unnaturally still, and her eyes widened at a glorious visage that floated down the narrow street.

 

"Hail, fallen one. Run into a spot of trouble, have we?"

 

Falling to one knee, Kitanue placed one fist over heart and touched her forehead to the ground.

 

"Lord!"

 

"When I heard one of the first cohort had fallen to this world, I could scarcely believe it. But here is mortal proof before me. How fare ye, captain?"

 

She grimaced. How like the gods to mock her before she died.

 

"I fare well, lord. Soon it will be over."

 

"I think not. It will be a . . . waste for a captain of the first cohort to meet her end at the hand of thugs. "

 

Kitanue rased her chin slowly, looking the embodiment of Sol in the eye. Bitterly, she said; "Pardon lord, but others seem to think otherwise. All has been taken from me-"

 

"-And all I may give back."

 

"It is not permitted" She whispered.

 

"I have use for you First Cohort of Angels, Kitanue Talesia, Captain of the Hammer of Light. Will you accept? In return, I shall end your exile to mortality. Your kind are meant to fly, not crawl. Do you accept?"

 

She rose proudly as her lineage was recalled, joy shining in her eyes. "Gladly, m'lord."

 

"Then be touched."

 

A tendril of light detached itself from the shapeless apparition, snaked it's way down to the woman's forehead. Kitanue gasped as she felt new power infusing her body, filling it with light.

 

"Go child - your duty shall become clear soon. Almost as an afterthought the voice added - "And mind the dragonblood. They have foreseen this.

 

There was a flash of light, and Kitanue found herself in the arms of the thief again, his knife an inch from slitting her throat. The gang leader hesitated a moment as her eyes flashed with new life, the sun sigil burning where she had been touched. A moment later the air about Kitanue exploded in a blaze of white and gold, ethereal wings unfolding to their fullness. She grabbed the murderer behind by the scalp, and threw him without effort over her head. Blinded by the display, the others never saw their friend's head smash open against a brick wall. With a sense of profound joy Kitanue reached out to touch her grey wings. They would take an age in returning to the physical world, but at least she was complete.

 

Her head snapped around at a sudden alarm. Soldiers in black and green were pouring through the maze of side streets, and a squad was charging down on her. Her young wings were unable to bear her to flight, but the infusion of power had left her near full strength. She turned and vanished into the nearest doorway.

Edited April 20, 2005 by Valdar and Astralis