Unlike Lucifer, some angels never fell from heaven willingly – they were pushed.
Baring no sin, these betrayed angels would remain on Earth instead of Hell, becoming dragons; halos broken into horns, feathers charred to scales, and heavenly light breathed out as desperate fire.
You watch it, Missy, or I’ll have you writing it with me.
I don’t care who does it, as long as it gets done!!!!
@sageclover61 seems to have kidnapped the idea. 👀 we’re watching you, Clover
Ooh. Paint me intrigued.
Do you want a snippet? Do you deserve a snippet? Let’s call this… Proof of concept.
Everyone knows that the first dragons were made by four inseparable fledglings. They were all baby dragons, because fledglings, even archangel fledglings, want to make things as old as they are. This is truth. This is fact. But this is not the only classification of dragon.
According to the Muggles, the Webster’s English Dictionary says that a dragon is a fabulous mythical monster. The Oxford dictionary adds that it is a giant lizard. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander, lists ten species of dragons while a few other sources name a few more. The Men of Letters have a few pieces of lore on dragons, something about their tears being used for time traveling. But don’t believe dragons have been seen in at least 700 years. The dragons that the wizard dragonologists study were not the same as the dragons the Men of Letters thought they remembered. But for a moment I would like you to pretend that you have never heard of either. Because what everyone had forgotten, including the archangels themselves, though Lucifer can be pardoned because he had very little to do with it, was that there was a third, or perhaps forth, type of dragon.
Cutting out your grace and falling was different than willingly following Lucifer to Hell. But something altogether different happened to the blameless angels pushed by their siblings in the mayhem following Lucifer’s Fall. This is the story of Sahaquiel and her brothers and sisters, and their road to redemption.
Sahaquiel was not a fledgling. There were no more fledglings in heaven because He had made all the angels there were going to be. She was also neither a soldier or a medic and she had no business being on the battlefield. But one of her superiors had declared to the entire choir that all hands were needed on deck to clean up heaven in the aftermath of Lucifer’s fall, and she took it very literally.
I think @dreamhunter-trash would agree that I in no means deserved a snippet, but bless your face for providing it nonetheless.
@sageclover61! Don’t feed her! If you feed her she won’t stop!
I loved the Gremlins reference on the other copy of this, I really did. Let’s see…. Oh! I know! It’s first thing in the morning, so another snippet should not hurt anyone. @talkingtomyselfagain I loved the second chapter from Gabriel’s pov so much, and altyex seems to think you should be fed. Soooo, here goes.
And then she was falling. The rest of the choir was muted to her, but she could hear what remained of her garrison screaming in the agony she shared. Their wings were designed for flight, but not to slow their fall to Earth. They weren’t supposed to go to Earth this way, the gates of Heaven existed for a reason.
The heat was greater than anything Sahaquiel had ever experienced before and she had stood in the presence of four archangels in all their awesome power, blazing with the heat of galaxies. She was a falling meteorite and she was on fire. Her destination was earth and her grace was not designed to withstand this kind of friction or heat.
Her halo broke first. The heavenly light that filtered through her grace and lit up around her head was fading quickly with her connection to heaven severed. The halo was still hot, a band of light and electricity that had been a piece of physical manifestation of her connection to heaven and without the the connection to heaven, it broke, charring into blackened calcium sticking out of her head. Horns. This was what she was being reduced to.
Her tawny feathers burned to her grace, hardening into scales like melted plastic to skin. They were black and dark red, and she could see what her wings were becoming. They were ugly, monstrous dark masses that she couldn’t stand to look at because this wasn’t the embodiment of Light and Grace she was supposed to be.
Even as Sahaquiel hit the ground, she could still feel her grace inside herself. She hadn’t taken a vessel, any vessel, let alone a willing one, and she wasn’t even supposed to be here on Earth without one. But without her connection to heaven, it was gone, she couldn’t take one. Her halo was physical horns, and the charred remains of her once beautiful wings were scaled masses, but the scales didn’t only extend to just- Are these even wings? No.Her entire body was now covered in these scales. She could still feel her grace, even despite being cut off from heaven. She was a seraph, seraph’s didn’t need to return to heaven to retain their grace. But what did that mean for the angels of her garrison? She could still hear them screaming in her mind. She may have lost the rest of the choir, but she hadn’t lost them. It was selfish to think that it was nice that she wouldn’t be here all alone, because she should not wish this pain on any of them, but they had all fallen, and they were still alive, and they would not be alone.
*makes incomprehensible noises, hoping for more*
Finals week is going to kill me if I already feel this way. Half the things I have left are due this week and what am I doing? This. You lot have all been so productive this week and it makes me think I need to step up too. So let me find a snippet. Except I already sent you the most painful scene so this could be difficult. OH Wait! I know just the thing! Babies are adorable!
The fledglings were outside playing while Michael was reading on the porch. The repairs to heaven were coming along nicely, but no one remembered what had happened to Sahaquiel and her garrison. They had gone silent sometime during the cleanup following the the last battle.
“Mica! Mica!” Raphael toddled over from somewhere out of sight.
Michael looked up, putting the book down to focus on the fledgling. “Hey, Raph, what’s up?”
“Baby dragon, Mica. Come see!” The fledgling reached to grasp one of Michael’s hands with both of his, like he was going to pull his brother in the direction the dragon had been seen. “It’s different!”
Michael knew about dragons. He had hardly forgotten about the time the four of them had created a bunch of different kinds of dragons. The wizards had at some point in time decided that muggles shouldn’t know about certain magical creatures, including dragons, and there had never been a large population of them on Earth. Even so, Michael knew they were still around. It was odd that Raphael was calling this one different, though. Slipping his feet into his sandals, he let his little brother lead him to the very edge of the wards.
Sigyn’s property was a haven for whatever needed safety, but the baby dragon had not crossed the wards. Lucifer was on the inside of the wards, trying to bribe the dragon with some piece of fruit, where did that come from? But the dragon was not having it.
Michael was glad Raphael had come to find him and that Lucifer had not crossed the wards to fetch the dragon. There weren’t very many things that could pose a threat to archangels, but the things that could would very much enjoy getting their hands on a fledgling.
The baby dragon, as Raphael had correctly identified, was not a species they had created. Species did evolve over time, but Michael could not recognize any of the dragons they had created in this one. The dragon was black and dark red, with reptilian scales that covered his wings and body. He had a round body with short legs that ended with sharp claws.
Michael considered the situation. “Luci, the dragon might be carnivorous.”
“Oh.” The fledgling pouted at the fruit in his hand. “Why’s it here?”
“I’m not sure. Let me try something else.” Michael went around and stepped across the wards. The baby dragon watched him as he crouched to make himself appear less threatening. This was odd, because creatures other than humans typically recognized angels as a source of creation.
“Hello,” Michael whispered to the dragon.
The dragon sneezed, smoke and light billowing softly from his nose. He shook his head and then took a few steps towards Michael.
“What do you want?” Michael asked.
The dragon stared at Michael, head tilted like he was considering Michael carefully. With a look that Michael swore was glee, he zipped forward and pulled Michael’s shoe off his foot. They were sandals without a backstrap, easy to slip on and off, so he raised an eyebrow at the dragon. It would have been difficult to steal the laced sneakers of either fledgling and easy enough to steal his sandal. But would a dragon be able to reason through that?
“Drop it,” Michael said.
The dragon backed up, holding up the shoe like he wanted Michael to come take it.
Michael walked slowly towards the dragon, and just before he was close enough to reach it, the dragon backed up. The dragon wasn’t running and didn’t go far enough for Michael to lose sight of it. “Okay, you’re definitely a weird dragon.”
He looked over his shoulder at the fledglings. “I think the dragon wants me to follow.”
Lucifer was still pouting at the fruit. “I wanna go inside,” he said, turning around and doing just that.
“I come?” Raphael asked, grinning hopefully at Michael.
Michael considered. It was just a dragon and this could be interesting. He wasn’t going to lose Rahael and the fledgling would probably enjoy a hike through the overgrowth. “Okay,” he said, holding out his hand for Raphael.
Raphael ran forward to take Michael’s hand. When Michael turned his head back towards the dragon, the dragon had turned around and started walking forward.
As Michael and Raphael followed the dragon, the dragon would periodically turn around to look over his shoulder, as though making sure the two archangels were still following. If they got too far behind, the dragon would stop, as though waiting for them to catch up.
They continued walking through the overgrowth for more than an hour until they came to the edge of it. Beyond the forest was a rocky outcropping that surrounded a lake at the base of a mountain.
In the meadow there were many dragons. There were different kinds of dragons, and besides the baby, all of them looked like dragons the archangels had created as fledglings. With one notable exception.
Shoe still in his mouth, the baby scampered towards the largest dragon in the meadow. Michael had almost missed it, because she was lying next to the rocky outcropping, almost as though she were part of the landscape.
The two archangels watched as the baby dropped the shoe a few paces away from the sleeping dragoness. He yipped at her until she opened the large pale blue-white eye to look at him. The baby yipped again, so she shifted her weight to lift her near wing enough for the baby to slip underneath and join the other various hatchlings sleeping under her wing. All the rest of the hatchlings were recognizable to the archangels as identical to dragons they had created as fledglings. None of the dragons seemed to care.
I know it’s not angsty, but I’ve had about all the angst I can take for right now, what with Cadbury, and Altyex filling that angsty Lucifer prompt. I needed some fledgling therapy, okay? ENJOY.
Karate Girl 