Fallen From Grace

The trumpets roared a harsh melody, and the golden gates flew open. A lone figure was flung through the opening. His crestfallen countenance echoed the severity of his plight. His radiance yet remained, though as he plummeted further, like a burning match starved of oxygen, it fizzled out. His angelic wings departed in a flight of feathers in the wind. His neat golden curls turned to black. His piercing yellow eyes darkened to a deep chestnut. His elegant vestments dissolved into dust. Crecios was left a skeleton of his previously vivacious self. Growing ever smaller as he descended, his features grew childlike until he was nothing more than a lone babe. He was stripped of his wisdom, his power, all that gave him purpose, and now he was falling to his imminent doom.

Touching the teapot to the porcelain, she carefully poured in the last drops of the drink, lifting with her scaled tale. She wondered if he would be okay. An aged figure, looking weary, his paws stained with dirt, entered the eclectic hollow and laid his body down on the pelt rug. This hollow, resembled a kitchen, containing a vast collection of repurposed, handed down, and “borrowed” cookware hanging on high shelves.

She looked and asked earnestly, “Father, how is he?”

“I’m afraid his condition is serious. Perhaps you should take your mind off it by making some supper, Marixis.”

“Yes, Father.”

Beneath her calm countenance, she bubbled with rage. Her father always disregarded her.

“I can handle the truth.” Marixis thought to herself.

She announced, “I’m going to pluck some gourds for the meal.”

Marixis stepped outside into the fields of Glimmershire, situated on the crossroads betwixt the kingdom of Newhorn and the empire of Silverspell, a land whose history was forged by arcane war but has now known peace and prosperity for the last hundred years. She made her way towards the barn carrying the cup of tea. Marixis pushed open the decaying barn door and saw his bruised body. He laid in a shallow bed of hay, wrapped in homespun bandages. With floorboards cracking beneath her feet, Marixis carefully approached the baby and set down the cup of tea. With warm, comforting breath, she knelt beside the bed. Marixis began to wash his forehead delicately, using her adroit tail.

She wondered, “How long will he remain unconscious? What is he doing here all alone? What’s his story?”

With one last scrub of his head, his chestnut eyes shot open. He attempted to jump up onto his feet, but he was immobilized under his own weight and was unable to lift his hands. He had once had the strength of ten thousand men, but now he felt so weak.

Marixis smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

“Where am I?”

His voice rang with an ethereal cadence.

“You speak! I’ve never met a baby who speaks.”

“You are not making any sense. Where am I?” again questioned Crecios.

“You’re in our barn. We’re lucky my father found you when he did.” said Marixis, no longer questioning that this baby could talk. “All alone in the forest; what happened to you?”

Despair filled his sunken eyes. There was a long pause…

“My name is Crecios, madam. I am--well, I was--an angel, a steadfast guardian of life.”

“You’re no older than a year” quothed she.

When Crecios finally managed to lift his head, he saw his caretaker. Red, blue, and purple scales decorated her spiraling winged body. He felt especially small.

“You’re a dragon, an envoy of dread! Release me.”

Marixis laughed, “I am certainly not dreadful. And I would release you, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t get so far in such a big world.”

“I have heard such terrible tales of dragons; tell me, do you plan on roasting me before you feast?”

“Ha, I’m afraid you wouldn’t make an appetizer. But no, human is far too gamey. Now drink your tea.”

Crecios, resolute to stand, attempted to sit up but failed. Looking down, he saw legs of an infant. Confused, he stretched his arms only to recognize their similarly immature form. He began to panic. Seeing the distress in his eyes, she began to believe there was some truth in his story.

“I heard the tales of angels when I was a hatchling, but I’ve never seen one in person. I never expected them to be so young.” She ragged but then assumed a sincere tone. “My name is Marixis. I want to help you.” Her gaze was warm.

Crecios, not wholly trusting her, looked over to try to see his sword. His once holy blade had degraded into nothing more than an ornate steel sword.

“Imagine our confusion when we encountered an incapacitated infant in the woods, clutching a sword. How did you even get there?”

“I failed.”

“Failed? What did you do?”

“You see, it’s not that simple… It’s what I refused to do.”

“Please continue… if it’s not too painful to recall.”

His mind raced as his complex emotions, the root of his quandary, swirled around.

He talked as if he had an anvil on his chest, “I was ordered to kill someone, but I couldn’t do it. No… More like I wouldn’t do it.”

Perplexed, Marixis asked, “Who were you ordered to kill?”

“The high angels ruled that I would kill a man who practiced necromancy. Life must be paid for with death, they said.”

“Well, that is the law of the world; such practices are outlawed.” Marixis said inquisitively.

“However, when I arrived at the home of the “necromancer”, I saw what he had done. He performed the dark act just to bring back his wife and daughter, who had been killed by barbarians.” Crecios’ eyes welled with tears, submerging his dark irises.

“They were happy. I couldn’t bring myself to take that away from them. But my inaction was my downfall. It was a momentary lapse of judgement, however. I would do anything to get back to my home on high.”

Marixis laid her tail on Crecios’ shoulder; despite the infantile form, it felt like chiseled marble.

“They said I was no longer fit to be an angel. I was stripped of everything and was cast out into the darkness. You’ve saved me, and I am grateful.”

Marixis gave Crecios a warm look and fed him the calming tea.

As the seasons passed and spring reemerged, so too did Crecios’ strength. He aged at an inhuman rate, seemingly growing each night. However, once he was fully developed, his aging appeared to cease. While he in no way matched the strength of an angel, he was able to carry his own weight and experience what it was like to be mortal. Crecios helped with the farm work, and he loved to till the fields. The dragons treated Crecios as their own, and his dexterous hands were certainly useful with the plow. Crecios prayed every night to be shown a path back to Paradise, and every night he heard the same vague response echo throughout his head… “Help the hapless”.

Crecios went around helping to till the fields of every local farm he could find, sharing the same kindness that Marixis showed to him, always returning to share evening supper with the dragons. His reputation began to spread amongst the local communities, as his magnanimity was felt throughout, certainly, improving the reputation of dragons and their associates.

A rush of chilled air flew by Crecios as he walked up to the farmhouse. He heard Marixis sobbing, so he raced in to check on her. Crecios saw her weeping at her father’s bedside, clutching his paw.

“No, you can’t leave me.” She cried.

“The death of dragon is like dripping pitch; it takes an eternity to occur, but it can pass with a blink. Thank you for being by my side, my daughter, and not letting me pass with a blink. You are a dragon of the eastern lands, and I am made proud of the dragon you have become.”

His warmth faded.

Marixis still had so much to say to her father, but silence filled the room like a torrent of water exploding through a cracked hull. Marixis was still for a while and then looked up to acknowledge Crecios’ presence. The silence hung over them like a deafening symphony. Crecios stared into Marixis’ eyes, and her desolation cut deep into his soul. There was a weight in his chest that he had never felt before. Crecios approached Marixis and attempted to hug her as naturally as a human could a dragon. Despite the awkward execution, every bone in his body was sincere.

Summer began to show its cheery face, and as time went on, Crecios did not leave Marixis’ side. Marixis continued to teach Crecios the lessons of this world, and he began to understand its beauty. Finally, the warmth returned.

The birds sang as golden light filled the field. Crecios was awoken by the gentle sunrise. The scent of freshly cooked eggs permeated from the kitchen. The kitchen which had previously felt so unfamiliar to Crecios was now filled with a familiar radiance bouncing off the pots. Marixis turned to see Crecios enter the room. They regarded each other with warm smiles. Marixis cared for Crecios as if he was still that newborn babe alone in the forest. Even with Crecios’ superhuman strength, he was diminutive compared to Marixis, and she made sure to let him know it.

“Can you grab me the pan from the high shelf? Oh wait…” she jested.

Crecios feigned an unamused look, but could not contain his laughter.

One night when Crecios was working the field, his sword at his hip in case of wolves, he spied a murder of crows flying overhead. In a burst of feathers, he felt the same rush of cold air and a dark outline appeared to him. The feathers were blacker than the night sky. He saw two dark wings connected to a human-looking creature. As the fog cleared, Crecios could make out its sharp facial features, particularly its tapered nose.

The creature nodded at Crecios and said, “Good evening. I am Dariel.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I had heard the tales of a fallen angel in these parts. I simply had to come and investigate it myself. Much to my amusement, he had started a little family. No, that would not do.”

“Go on…”

“I am just like you, my friend… kicked out, discarded, fallen from grace. But I did not stay weak. I found my power in corruption and darkness. Such potential you have! Angelic blood still flows through your veins. Come with me, fight by my side, and I will give you back the power which is rightfully yours. But, I need you to cut out that which makes you weak. I need you to kill Marixis.”

“You are mistaken… I am nothing like you. I would never kill Marixis; she is the only mother I have ever known. Now leave this place! You are unwelcome.”

“You are confused. You misinterpret weakness for connection. Very well, I’ll do it for you. I’ll kill her myself, just as I brought death to her father. His heart was weak. All he needed was a little push.” said Dariel, drawing his cruel blade.

“You monster! I won’t let you hurt her!” screamed Crecios, drawing his steel sword in response.

Dariel began to laugh. “Don’t you remember that you are a mere mortal now?”

“You won’t be able to hurt her!”

With a lightning-fast onslaught from Dariel, Crecios was stabbed eight times, parrying only one of the attacks. Yet, Crecios remained on his feet.

“You are making a mistake, Crecios. Surrender and join me in glory or die.”

“You fiend! I will never surrender to you!”

With another round of slashes, Dariel cut deep through Crecios’ flax clothing. Crecios launched a furious counterattack on Dariel, but Dariel easily dodged every attack. Dariel struck Crecios in the head, knocking him back, but still, Crecios remained on his feet.

Dariel, beginning to grow annoyed, said to Crecios, “Surrender to me now or draw your last breath!”

“So be it.” responded Crecios calmly as he inhaled.

He wound up to strike Crecios with a killing blow when a purple torrent of flames engulfed Dariel.

“Crecios are you harmed?” hurried Marixis. “I had only just finished cooking a late supper when I came upon you.”

Before Crecios could respond, laughing came from the cloud of smoke.

“Here she is, how poetic, protecting him just like the infant he is,” letting out a pained laugh.

Marixis snarled, showing her dreadful teeth, as she stepped in front of Crecios. Dariel moved like blur as his blade clashed off her prismatic scales. He rended flesh in between her armor, but her thick hide helped keep his slashes superficial. She used her great strength to clobber him with her paw. He was knocked back but steadied himself with him crude sword. He used his superior speed to dodge her swipes, continuing to slice at her. Marixis swiftly snapped at him with her maw, but Dariel countered by thrusting his sword into her mouth, piercing its roof. Dariel attempted to thrust his sword deeper, but she defiantly breathed another torrent of violet flames. Dariel jumped back briskly, but not fast enough to avoid the stinging flames. Despite her breath, the blade remained lodged in her mouth. Dariel vanished with a storm of feathers. For a second, she thought he was gone, but he dropped a top her head, grasping the blade and pushing it deeper. She shook her head desperately, attempting to get him off. Like a flash of divine light, Crecios’ sword, flung through the night sky, struck deep into Dariel’s side, knocking him off Marixis’ neck. She collapsed from pain, and Crecios limped over to her. Dariel rose, pulling Crecios’ blade from his side.

“Wouldn’t it be rich if you died by your own sword?” laughed a bloodied Dariel.

He prepared one last onslaught to finish Crecios, when a barrage of heavenly arrows rained down from the sky, illuminating the night with golden rays brighter than the sun. A hundred angels burst through the clouds and surrounded Dariel. They overwhelmed him with sheer numbers and swiftly slayed Dariel.

Crecios stared at Archangel Raphael, who led the charge to save him, and questioned, “Why did you come for me?”

“We saw you ready to make the ultimate sacrifice and die in an effort to save the life of another. You have redeemed yourself. We ask you to rejoin us in the kingdom on high.”

Crecios looked around at the force of angels that came to save him. He thought of the great power that he could reclaim, but then he thought of Marixis.

He looked Raphael in the eyes. “My family is here, for I have learned the virtues of mortality.”

Raphael had supreme regard for his response and honored his request. He healed Crecios and Marixis’ wounds and gave them his blessing. The angels returned up to their high post. In the dark beneath the starlit sky, there lay a family as human as any other.