Chapter One

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Chapter One

My first clear memory is of my father telling me the truth.

Or, at least, what I thought was the truth.

All my life, I had known that there was something different about me. I have vague flashes of playing with the other children, and feeling things a good angel never should feel. Hatred, anger, disobedience. Strange happenings, like leaving a trail of dead grass where I walked, or holding a beetle and it dying instantly. They frightened me, for already I had heard tales of the Civil War, and how angels had fallen and become Demons, but I always managed to disguise these things, at least until my wings sprouted. Until then, I could've passed as a normal angel, despite my strangely dark hair and eyes. But then my wings grew, and I knew that I could never, ever be normal, no matter how much I wanted it. For while an angel's wings are white and feathered, and a demon's black and bat-like, mine were neither. My wings were covered in pitch black feathers, marking me as a Demon-Child.

I remember being huddled on the floor of my father's house, tears pouring down my cheeks as I gazed at the monstrosities growing from my back. As soon as Father came home, I leapt to my feet and hugged his legs. I'd always been smaller than average- my tiny arms only reached up to his knees. Father, of course, saw the tiny wings on my back, still crumpled from sprouting, and knew what was wrong. His face sagged visibly, and I thought he would cry.

"Oh, Aliel, my love..." He whispered sorrowfully. "I am so sorry that this has happened to you."

I looked up at my father, my eyes red from hours of sobbing into the floor. "Father, what am I? What did I do wrong? Father... why am I a monster?" You see, I'd been teased ever since I had first met other children about my hair, my eyes, my personality... I'd been called a mutant, a monster- once even a Demon-Child. And now, I feared that those accusations were true. Only years later would I realize that they were.

"A monster? No, child, no, no. You are not a monster. You are different- you are special." My father said with a sad smile, before plopping to the ground. "Sit down, my lovely, and I will tell you the tale of how I met your mother, a long, long time ago." I bit my lip, trying to decide whether I should sit. Angels enjoy sitting for a story, but it's easier to stand after your wings have sprouted. Finally, he patted the ground beside him a little impatiently. When he spoke again, his voice was low and slightly panicked. "Aliel, please. We don't have much time."

So I sat, and I heard the first version of the tale of the brave angel soldier, Ordiel, and the beautiful demon warrior, Ronove. Little did I know that I would not hear the whole version until many years later. "You know that I used to be a soldier. And you know that I was discharged after being wounded in battle." He hesitated, trying to decide how to word his next sentence. "But you don't know how I got that wound- or who gave it to me."

"It was during the heat of the battle." I could almost see the battle my father described, his deep voice painting the words like God paints the sunset. "You can't imagine the horror of it, Aliel. It was during the most important battle of the second Great Falling, when thousands of angels gave into pride and evil and became Demons. All of the demons were fighting the angels, and we were fighting back, hoping to destroy a few before they began to destroy humans. I fought many a demon that day, but the only one I remember is also the last I ever fought.

"Your mother was always beautiful, even when covered in the golden blood of angels. I hated her at first, Aliel, it was not love at first sight. You must understand that. She was just another demon to me, and I was going to rid the humans of one more damn demon to lead them astray- but she did something, something I never could have expected."

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