A Theory

Up until now, the monster had stayed motionless, not even breathing. The creature gently lifted its head to meet his gaze, proving to the angel that it was not immobilized in fear as he had assumed. Even in his current shape, it could see him clearly, demon or not.

"Are you finished?" Seemingly unfazed by the angel's assault, the thin person asked softly. "Or do you intend to kill me, god-sent?" It was impossible for someone of mortal blood to have the strange, ancient timbre of his voice. Although his ruined appearance suggested he was very old, it was insufficient to explain a lifespan that ought to have long since reduced him to dust.

He appeared to have been parched by a heartless sun, as his skin was stretched taut across sharp bones, leaving him emaciated. As though he could see into a soul's depths, his eyes, a deceptively mild shade of blue, were sunken deep into their sockets, yet they gazed with an acuity that would have sent a weaker man running in fear. Skeletal and seeming frozen, his hands sat lightly on an oaken staff, showing no signs of effort.

The angel paused, then smiled, taking a tentative step back out of instinct before he stopped. He experienced cognitive dissonance rather than disgust at seeing a man who, according to reasoning, ought to have been long dead. The man bared his teeth in what could have been a death grimace as he asked, "Have you seen a ghost, god-sent?" "Do you not still intend to strike me down?"

The angel's voice was no more than a breath, and he was shaken, forgetting his first prey. "What manner of creature are you?" If angels had souls, something inside of him whispered that this creature was an abomination and shouldn't be standing there talking when the gods ought to have taken his soul long ago.

The man took a long breath and, as if gathering his thoughts, paused before speaking. Then he responded, erecting his staff in the process. He spoke slowly, giving the words time to register. "I am one whom darkness tried its utmost to claim, but failed," he murmured. He grinned once more.

The angel stared in confusion, totally unbalanced and unsure of what to do, the words making little sense. Had Darkness failed in its attempt to seize him? Was a guy this thing? Maybe a divinely blessed person, or a servant of the gods? The angel was once again unable to make sense of this in light of his knowledge.

As though answering the angel's silent thoughts, the man answered slowly, "No," "you are damned."

The hiss of his breath was followed by a cool nod, tinged with rage. He accepted the charge without question. "That is true," he said. But I didn't say I was anything else. I believe that much is evident by... He took one hand off his staff and pointed to his gaunt, robe-clad figure. As though there was nothing more to say, he left the sentence hanging.

Still unable to comprehend the meeting, the angel shook his head. With his fists clenched, he demanded, "What are you?" Despite his doubts, he was prepared to battle again. "I was assigned to battle a monster! Do you have one?

The ensuing laughter sounded like death laughing, which is a sound that no live thing should create. It chilled the soul. "A demon?" It seems that the man was truly amused. Rather than respond, he cocked his head to the right. I want to know, witch-child. "Am I a demon?"

Given that she had come close without the angel noticing, she shouldn't have been there. "Nothing but a near-vampire, teacher!" she bowed to the angel and swept her ragged cotton dress around, excitedly assuring the gaunt guy. "And a pleasure to see you as you truly are!" she said. "It’s good to confirm I’m not mad; I thought I saw an angel."

With a tiny tilt of his head toward the angel, the near-vampire turned around. Continuing to be amused, he suggested, "I would trust her eyes, god-sent," "They’ve yet to fail her."

The angel looked at the two for a second time, trying to figure out why they had appeared so suddenly. As he stopped attempting to comprehend, he became aware that Elyra, his real target, was rapidly escaping.

He grimaced, furious with himself, and turned to continue the chase, but he was halted before he could fly. The near-vampire grabbed the wing with rapid speed, bent the injured limb, and sent him tumbling back to the ground, not his crippled wing.

The angel rolled to his feet in shock and anguish, then sprang at the near-vampire, only to see the thin form standing placidly in front of him, seemingly waiting for retribution. Once more, the angel's blow faltered and came to a brief halt. The idea of adding further suffering to this creature, who appeared to be already in excruciating anguish, made him feel something twisted.

He looked up at the sky once more in frustration, but his wing was of no use. Completely unfit for flight, it lay twisted behind him, wounded and shattered, dragging in the soil.

Unable to defend himself, he turned back to the near-vampire, feeling angry, disappointed, and upset again. His divine mandate permitted him to attack only demons, precisely the one he had been assigned to kill, and this being was not a demon.

He moved away from the two and shook his head. Seemingly unconcerned that he may turn on her friend, the girl waited there with a curious, watching glance.

The angel hesitated for a moment as the near-vampire said, "For what it's worth, you wouldn't have been able to catch her anyway." But to get right to the point... The creature was grinning as the angel looked back impatiently. "I did need to test a theory."

A hypothesis? The angel felt a surge of disgust, but he could find no greater feeling for this creature—after all, he was a man. He turned back toward the city and said softly, "Whatever you are, know that you are meddling in affairs beyond your understanding." He seamlessly retreated both of his wings into his body, where they would eventually heal, after he strained his injured wing and snapped the broken bone into place as he spoke.

The near-vampire nodded behind him, "Fair enough," "But there’s something you should know as well."

The boy completed his sentence, but by the time the angel returned to his human form and turned around, both had vanished. "We’ve been playing this game for a lot longer than you have…"

Gramor ignored Amara as she walked silently beside him, but he was happy to have her around as usual. Then we have witnessed the actual form of an angel. She tried not to show it, but her voice in her head was trembling. What person, however, could stand before an angel and not be moved?

Gramor, however, was not so readily convinced. He thought, "If you change the claws and add wings, he's just like Elyra." He felt a twinge of bitterness at the angel for making an impression on Amara so quickly. He is here on divine business, and more crucially, gods are no more reliable than devil monarchs. Remember that we are disposable to both.

Amara sighed in agreement, perhaps dreading the reality. "And their champion is no different," she said. "But it isn’t always the case." Gramor decided not to answer.

He was no longer walking these same trees as a young man, his veins aching for the solace it provided, his body wailing for mortal blood. Even if he wanted to drink blood again, he couldn't change the fact that his place was now fixed. He had witnessed what such lust did to guys far bigger than himself, therefore it was for the best. This was a better fate than the ones he had seen.

Amara, too... He questioned whether the ugliness that tormented him inside might be seen by her talented eyes. She never displayed any symptoms. But she had been so easily impressed by the angel. He looked at her, who saw things that most men could only imagine, with his restricted vision, which could only see light and shadow. Without hesitation, she looked him in the eye and grinned. Even though he couldn't see it properly, he was positive of it.

"What makes you smile that way, teacher?" Amara questioned, sweeping her skirts in a childlike gesture, although she was older than most people who played like that. Maybe she knew he had restricted vision, so she did it for him. Were you impressed with the angel? He pondered. Tell me you're not that susceptible to being influenced by heaven.

He thought, "Hardly so swayed," concurring with his own skepticism, but he did not explain his earlier smile, which had now dimmed. He whispered to himself that Elyra's mother had trusted me to keep her daughter safe. I might be tempted to let the girl go after all these years, but I can't for Astra's sake.

He was positive that Amara was staring up at him, anticipating words he had never said to anybody. "Well," she finally remarked out loud, looking back at the city, "Elyra would be in bad shape if she had been fleeing that fight. The only thing a demon despises more than another demon, you know. The notion was left incomplete as she shrugged.

When it was just the two of them, her demeanor and voice shifted, becoming more laid back as normal. She grinned, sensing that he knew this. Gramor had no idea what might appeal to her.

After relishing their strange intimacy for a minute, she thought, "I'll see to Elyra then." Although I've never had the opportunity to apply them to a half-demon, I still have a few remedies. However, don't you believe they ought to work just as well on her as they would on a fairy or a human? Gramor didn't have to respond, so he didn't. As they went, her eyes were probably searching for supplies, but she was already absorbed in her own world, mentally mixing herbs and making potions.

Therefore, he didn't take offense when she quickly fled into the night without saying goodbye. Rather, he rested his weary body heavily on his staff. He was still youthful for his kind, although feeling like an old man with fatigue as a regular companion.

He waited three breaths, spoke her name and got no answer, and then he went on without the witchling. The absence of her luminous presence dimmed his mood. Thinking of Elyra, the half-demon, he pursed his lips, thinking of how much she looked like her mother, the woman he had known so long ago.

She did, however, have her father's eyes.