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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1275700-The-Fallen---Prologue
Rated: 18+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1275700
A story of a woman's journey to learn the truth about herself - and the world around her.
The winds of Shayakim were cold - cut straight through the body cold.  Humans did not venture lightly into the realms of Shayakim and those that hadn’t the forethought to protect themselves from the weather rarely lasted long enough to learn the truth of this coldly brutal land.  However, that didn’t matter over much to Shayakim’s inhabitants…  They had made their choice – and the peace with that choice – eons before.  The Realms of Man no longer remembered the truth of this particular Hell.  Far too many centuries had passed for any of them to remember that once, long long ago, Hell’s Fallen Hundred had been their best and truest Allies.  The only Beings willing to take a stand for the short lived Humans and help them against powers Men could never hope to understand and never hope to defeat.  While the other Races watched the Light consume all it touched and turned their faces in horror and fear, Shayakim’s Fallen Hundred had stood before their Light-Blessed Masters and said “No.  This is wrong.  Men have souls and you have not the right to herd them as cattle.”  And the Masters that they had served from time immemorial cast them from Heaven and cursed them to the frozen reaches of Shayakim - denied them forever after the sight of their Blessed faces and the touch of their calming thoughts.  The Price was high – but fair.

~*~

Lillith stood upon the stone balcony that opened off her suite of rooms in Shayakim’s Hall.  This was her home now – hers to hold, hers to command, hers to protect – and had been for thousands upon thousands of years.  It was a complicated responsibility and one she took as seriously as she had taken the Mandate from Heaven that she had heard eons before.  A Mandate that none of the Light-Blessed Masters had heard.  One for her ears alone – the Mandate to protect the race of Man.  Even after all these Ages, she still could not understand what it was that spoke to her and not to the Masters…  Were the Masters not the Hands of God upon this world?  She was a simple Guardian content to serve the Masters as best she was able.  How was she worthy to hear the Mandate of God when all other ears were deaf to it?

Lillith’s wings were full and graceful, the feathers softer than any down in the earthly realm.  Moreover, they shone with the light of God – proof to those that Followed that she was still Blessed with the Mandate.  There were those that had doubted over the years.  Those that continued to doubt…  A time always came when she had to once again demonstrate her Strength and prove to her brethren that hers was the right to rule and none others.  It broke her heart every time she was required to set an example of Strength…  They were too few to fight amongst themselves.  But the years had been long and painful for them all.  Sometimes she believed that their doubt was simply a way out.  That perhaps they never lost their Faith in her and their God but simply wanted the unending cold and pain to end.  She didn’t begrudge them their right to End.  God gave Free Will – who was she to deride how others chose to express it – provided they didn’t harm others with their choosing.  And for those Lillith lost, others always came – not many and not often, but God seemed to always send her someone to replace those they had lost… 

They were the Fallen Hundred.  Once Angels loved by all, now called Demons and loved by none but Lillith and God Above.
© Copyright 2007 Morgayne24 (morgayne24 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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