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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2204400-Swift
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #2204400
This is on a whim. It remains unedited and unfinished.
Pink sand cascaded down the Marchuary cliffs, Layona lazily watched it as she scratched the back on her heel with her converse shoes. She waited for Conan, a distant friend yet her only comfort. He was there, when she felt the pressure of the Great Ones, expecting her to exceed at her duties. She often crumpled to the weight of those expectations.

“I think you need a nap, Lay,” Lean arms wrapped around her shoulders, forearms hanging over the the nape of her neck. She could finally let her tears fall.

Protecting the needy humans of the Earth was too much on her. Since angels were leaving their post and fleeing loyalty to their creators, she was left to deal with the mess. Handle everything perfectly.

“If I nap, I will be sent to lay in this sand for the rest of eternity.” I replied, shifting my body to face Conan. My own arms limp at my sides. “I know it.”

Silence replaced the sound of the eroded grain falling into the clouds below it.

Conan’s nostrils flared, he wanted to prevent the dark aura from encasing his companion. Layona was the definition of strength to him, but she would naturally weaken to the responsibilities bestowed onto her by their Masters. He knew this more than anyone.

“Maybe I should…Nap. Eternity wouldn’t be that bad,” Layona breathed, her eyes watered and slowing slipped down her rose-colored cheeks. Lifting her head, she looked up at the bright sunless sky. One, to avoid eye contact with Conan for the shame she felt was suffocating and two, because the tears burned with heavenly fervor. Angels weren’t supposed to cry. In fact, they were punished for it. Sometimes, she have to chasten herself for thinking of escape, becoming like her unfaithful brethren.

But a fallen is what she refused to become. Besides, she knew she only like this because of her close quarters with humans for the last century.

“I need you for my eternity, Lay” Conan kissed her chin.

“It won’t be up to you if I fail,” Moving away, Layona pushed back her unholy words. Now, she decided to rely on her own wings now.

“Then don’t fail. Fight and conquer. You’re an archangel, the Great Ones would not have given you this task if they didn’t think you could do it.” Conan injected, he hated this feeling of helplessness coming off Layona.

Layona sucked in a large breath of air, and stopped her float. And fell.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2204400-Swift