Souls for Satan

Chapter 15

I haven't had twitter for very long and I don't post about anything remotely interesting. But if you want to check it out, my name is: @Sian_The_Writer

I hope you're having a great week!

- Sian

The gates of heaven were so visible in the sky, sitting correctly on illusionistic clouds. Even on a gloomy day, they looked magnificently pleasing. Birds would fly straight through it, not having the ability to sense it or see it. Planes would do the same, only causing minor turbulence for the pilot and passengers.

Milokan had been walking for many, many miles. His feet ached occasionally, and he would start to complain to himself because it felt incredibly slow compared to flying, which was not sensible to do. After almost being spotted by demons, he chose to plant himself firmly on the earth and only expose his wings if he was in trouble.

Every so often, he would stop and pray. Some were out loud, and some were in the privacy of an alleyway or in his mind. Humans stopped and stared at him, but he didn't know the norms and how to fit into society. It was clear to him that they did not appreciate outcasts and he had to be a little more... normal.

He currently stood in a little village. His feet were enjoying the cobbles which covered the roads. His body appreciated the fresh air and his eyes laid upon a small church. He could feel the faith leaking from within, and it intrigued him very much. He has not found a lot of devotion so far, maybe he felt so weak because he lacked it himself. Or perhaps he was feeling too much pain from Kaiden. However, the demon was not suffering anymore, and it helped.

As the angel approached a grand wooden door, he tugged on the brass handle and opened it with minimal effort. The hinges were suffering from its weight, squeaking with exhaustion.

When Milokan peeked inside, he was mesmerised by the gentle daylight as it swarmed through the stain-glass windows and lit up the interior. The many rows of benches created a path for him to wander through. His feet made little-patting noises against the marble, making himself known to the priestess, sitting incredibly tranquil in front of a statue.

"Oh my dear boy," She spoke while turning. "How are you this fine-" Her words stopped as soon as her wise eyes laid upon Milokan. They grew and sparkled, illuminating her old and tired face. "My goodness." She placed her fingers to her lips as if to seal her words from spilling out.

"Incredible," Milokan breathed, equally as interested. "Your soul, I have never seen one so pure within a human before."

She leant forward and stared deep into his emerald eyes.

"And you. So young but so-" Milokan laughed and shook his head.

"You are the young soul here, your vessel is simply ageing."

The priestess frowned. She could tell something was outstandingly different about this boy, but she wasn't able to detect that he was, in fact, a messenger of the person who she dedicates her entire existence to.

"Who are you?"

The angel wondered if he should express himself. The woman was apparently very authentic and trustworthy when sharing the same faith.

"My name is Milokan, and I am an angel." For more of an effect, he shined his wings and stretched them, feeling the satisfaction of the cold air against his feathers. It was maybe a little too dramatic for the elderly priestess. A gasp left her parted lips, and she rested a hand on her thumping heart.

She looked so surprised, he couldn't hold back a little smile of appreciation.

"Do not be alarmed, I suppose I am here to ask you a question. My path has been guided to you for a reason, whether that was to enhance your faith or to give me strength, we will not know until it is over."