Right, I'd be happy if someone could give me their opinion on this... I wrote it about 3-4 months ago, this is its original version, which I actually wrote later, since the first was rather abrupt and confusing, according to some people who read it before... If you want the first version, which is shorter, but I can't remember how much shorter, probably just 2-3 paragraphs less, leave a comment or something with your email address if I don't have it... Enjoy~
The Angel That Slumbered
Darkness. Shrouded in peaceful quiet, enclosed in the shadows, the darkness that was absolute within itself, he slumbered within the eternity that was time; the silence entombing him in endless rest. Even as he slept, the darkness stirred. A presence, a manifestation, the embodiment of a will, was suddenly with him, where before only darkness and darkness alone kept his company. It approached him, but moved no closer to him in the material world, for it was only the will that approached his own.
“Rise, awaken, and slumber no more, Izariel. You do not belong here,” it said.
He stirred from his reverie. The darkness was ever comforting in its familiarity, beckoning him to return to tranquil sleep. Awareness flooded his being, the consciousness that was thought, the clarity that was memory, threatening to engulf his mind. He shied away from the clarity, shutting it out of his mind.
“Who are you? Why do you interrupt me in my slumber? I am not Izariel, seek him elsewhere, and leave me to my rest.”
“Do you not remember, Izariel? Perhaps your long self-imposed exile has caused you to forget yourself. Why don’t you let me help you?”
A small orb of light materialized into being, seemingly coalescing from the darkness itself; hovering close to his face. He turned his face from its dazzling brightness, unable to look into its painful glare. The slightest sliver of a remembrance slipped into his mind, of glimmering towers of lapis lazuli, and a sea of purest gold.
“What is this?”
“It is your destiny. Be not afraid, Izariel, it will aid in your recovery, if you are willing.”
“I am not Izariel.”
“Very well then, he who is not Izariel. If you are not he, who are you, and where do you come from?”
He struggled to remember, but found nothing in his mind to give indication to his identity. Pain lanced through his temples, and he grimaced.
“I do not know, but I am certain I am not he you speak of.”
“You don’t sound so certain yourself. But enough of this, will you accept your fate? You have slumbered long, and the time draws near. Come; look into the light once more.”
“It hurts, I don’t want to remember. Please, just leave me alone, I don’t want to remember, it hurts too much,’ he whimpered, pleading, almost sobbing.
“You must persevere. Face your past, for it is a part of you, and you a part of it. Seek not to escape it, for it will consume you otherwise. Courage, have heart, for you shall not fail in this. Fasten your resolve, and you will make it through the pain of memory.”
“But I am afraid, afraid of them…”
“Do not be afraid, for you are only at the beginning. Walk the path, and the journey shall be easier with time. Embrace your destiny, for the time is at hand. This is all I can do for you; the rest is for you to decide.”
With those words, the presence faded, and the darkness was his sole companion once more. But the orb remained, in its blinding brilliance, like the essence of stars purified; the darkness within as enthralling as the light itself.
Once more, he turned back, regarding it thoughtfully. Then slowly, cautiously, he stretched out his hand towards it. The shadows began melting away, fading into light itself, until all around him was the same enthralling, blinding brilliance as the orb before. The darkness within that was the orb’s core yet remained, and his hand continued towards it inexorably, as if drawn by the strings of a puppeteer.
Memories, memories of himself, memories of her, with flowing hair and eyes of brilliant blue, filled his mind. He saw her, and in that moment, all that had happened before. He saw seven towers of lapis lazuli overlooking a shining city across the sea of gold. He stood before twelve gates of pearl; he stood before ten spheres inscribed upon a wall in an arrangement he did not know. But through it all, he saw her, talking, running, laughing, crying; he felt both joy and sorrow as he watched her, in a tangle of bittersweet emotions. He saw her lying in a field of white and black flowers, him walking through the field of black and white, approaching her still form. He saw himself pick twelve flowers, six black flowers with white in its centre, and six white flowers with black through its centre. He saw himself laying the flowers upon her breast; he saw the tears that fell from his own face, onto her cheek, still and lifeless.
EDIT: I've updated this story, fixing some bits, I didn't add the poem, however, since it was kinda an aesthetic touch... Perhaps I'll add it when I perfect the poem...
