There is a tale that says that all the world's blood that flows, from battles and wars and murder, converges in one place. A namless place. An ancient place. The battlefield where, once, the angels fought. Their blood, golden and rich and beautiful, posioned the ground. Scorched the earth, so it is burnt black as a lightless day.
Gabriel's punishment was merciless. The angels are unkind. Their beauty is harsh, their law is harsher. The angel looked into the faces of the Nephilim, the sons of the angels and mankind, and saw rot. Saw the sins of the fallen angels, which would be forever forgiven because of their beauty. He saw prey.
Golden as sunlight.
Black as sin.
Art by Silvia C. Text by Lucie MacAulay
No comments:
Post a Comment