CRUEL MOON.

The two pieces of obsidian click into place, and soon, liquid silver begins to seep betwixt the cracks. The angel’s life blood was like thin rivers, filling up his scars, holding the fragments in place. 

Her ever careful hold did not go unnoticed by Gabriel.

His hand was put together flawlessly; not a single missing bit— as if it had never been shattered to begin with. An impressive feat that Gabriel could only assume took an incredible amount of dedication and patience on her part. The people of this land had venerated her as a GODDESS, or so he assumed. For good reason, as he could see now. From where he lie, she was like the light of the sun.  And he? A broken statue, basking in her light — a shattered being with no warmth or light of his own.

His moon-silver gaze remained fixated upon her, unblinking and unrelenting.  It was only after she spoke that he stirred. A subtle twitch of his wing, a flick of his wrist and a tentative little flex of his fingers. 

“ As if it were never shattered... Not a piece missing, your handiwork is beyond impressive,”   He spoke up softly, before he allowed the silence to linger for a few seconds more; he considered his words carefully. 

Unwillingly evil

 —You were forced. Your resolve was broken slowly but surely, and now you're unsure of whether you'll ever get it back. For some reason, you believe that your current position is your fault. It isn't. It's the fault of those who did it to you. And yet you soldier on, facing forwards even as you slowly lose your will to continue. When you die, you're calm. Unafraid for the first time in a while. this is the one thing they can't take from you.

ANGELS ARE, for the most part, single-minded creatures. It is not uncommon to see them become fixated upon a certain goal or outcome. Which is—more often than not— related to the purpose that they were given upon their creation. They were given a DUTY and it is now their PURPOSE to see it done well, from their inception ‘til the end of time. So it is only natural to expect a sort of fervor from them, for them to merely shut out ideas that fall outside the purview of their purpose.

Such is not the case for GABRIEL.

Though before his fall, Gabriel was quite a different person, he was considered too clever. Too cunning. Asking too many questions, and driven by an almost insatiable curiosity. For those who resided outside the confines of heaven. Particularly the demons of hell and the humans of Earth. For how the politics of heaven came to be, what the angel’s relation to creation was— and more importantly, a lingering doubt in god’s plan. 

Though these doubts came secondary to his duty, the nevertheless began to burn at the back of his mind. Small inconsistencies would surely add up, giving him reasons to doubt those above his station, and with that came more questions and an ever expanding narrative. There was something amiss in paradise, and it ran deeper than he had ever anticipated, and it seemed that it was only he who was aware of this.