Wingless

Wingless

         There was once a certain village where good peopled lived, who were honest and often took part in activities and other merriment. They danced and sang and laughed quite untroubled, and always did an honest day’s work.
         Over time, though, the young ones grew foolish, and wanted to spend all their time having fun and playing games, never doing their work. The old ones would not allow this, and saw to it that their children behaved with piety and goodness, as they did.
         Soon enough, the old ones died, and the young ones became the old ones, and were certainly more foolish than the old ones before. Being raised by foolish elders, the new young ones grew to be even more foolish than they, and as time went on, the people became ignorant enough to reject God, and only lived for pleasure. Following this, having no moral frame to keep themselves in, or a conscience of any kind, they began to cheat, steal, lie, and destroy themselves and each other. The entire village was corrupted by this, and all who lived there had completely forgotten the sincerity and piety of their ancestors.
         The little village that was once filled with good men and women now rank of all manner of sin.

         Many years later, a young man named Virgil found himself passing through the village on an undesignated travel. This was a godly, kind-hearted man, with pity for the less fortunate.
         It just so happened that this man loved animals, and found himself quite carefree when tending to them. In this particular village, they no longer kept their animals for working, only for entertainment such as riding and shows, and they were poorly cared for.
         At the sight of this Virgil’s heart sank, and he wished to stay and care for the horses and dogs. He looked around their shanty shelters for a caretaker of some sort, and had no luck, but soon saw a man passing by that he intended to ask for help.
         “Good morning, sir,” he greeted him, and lifted his hat in good manner, “How are you today?”
         “What do you want from me?” the man bellowed quite foully, “Can you not see me in a rush?”
         “Oh, sir, I am terribly sorry to squander your time, but I will only ask you to spare a moment of it for a gentleman in need,” Virgil replied quite humbly, and he could see now very clearly that the man was under a certain intoxicating spell.
         “I’ve no time for ignorant games,” the man huffed, and without another word drank from the bottle he held and walked away.

         Virgil, being the modest man that he was, took no offense to this, and in his head wished the man good fortune and sense. “I don’t suppose there is anyone that already cares for these kind beasts,” he said to himself, “so, I will take it upon my own responsibility.”
         He examined the shelters that the animals stayed in, and saw that they should be replaced. He then examined the animals themselves and saw that they desperately needed food. He then took care of all the things they needed, finding apples for the horses, hunting meat for the dogs, and chopping wood for new shelters.
         The beasts took kindly to Virgil, as did he to the beasts. Knowing what would befall them if he were to leave, Virgil decided to stay and care for seemingly the only kind beings in the entire village.

         Soon, Virgil made a home for himself as well, close to the animal shelters. He was a permanent resident of the town now, though no one seemed to like him very much. Each time he spoke to someone, they replied rudely, or simply did not reply at all, but still Virgil was polite and good-mannered to everyone. This, however, irritated them, as they did not understand him. So Virgil then became outcast and hated by the villagers.
         Still he went on speaking gently, caring for the animals, and praying every night and day.

         It just so happened that long after Virgil arrived, another new being stumbled into the village. She was a beautiful young girl, with long brunette hair and a heavenly countenance. She seemed quite troubled, though, when she found herself in this place. What appeared to have once been a lovely violet dress was now tattered, and her smooth, charming hair was in disarray.
         “Kind sir,” she cried to one of the village men with a sweet, pleasant voice, “would it trouble you terribly to help me?”
         She, however, got the same sort of reply that Virgil did when he first asked one of the village men to help. “What do you want from me?” he roared.
         “Sir, I am in terrible distress,” she replied. “I’ve been attacked by raiders, you see, and they’ve taken all my belongings, and more importantly, my horse and carriage, so I’ve no way to return home tonight. As it grows darker, I do not wish to stay out in the woods alone. Do you perhaps know of any nearby lodgings?”
         “Get away from me,” he had ignored her completely, and was under the same intoxicating spell as the man Virgil had seeked help from.
         “…Ma’am? Would you kindly help me?” she turned to a village woman, hoping for more sympathy than she had gotten from the man, but got nothing.

         Virgil then approached her and spoke. “I will help you, ma’am.”
         “Oh, sir,” she seemed incredibly relieved, “thank you, very much.”
         “Of course, madam,” he lightly bowed, and in that moment noticed her stunning blue eyes. “I know of no temporary lodgings here, but, as you may have already seen for yourself, it may not be wise to trust these people, even if there was such a service nearby.”
         She laughed. “Yes, it seems that is true.”
         “But, you can stay with me.”
         “Oh, but sir! Are you quite certain?”
         “I insist,” he said as he held out a welcoming hand to her.
         “Why, thank you, sir! Unfortunately, because of the raiders, I’ve no way yet to pay you for—“
         “Ah, madam, please. There is no need for that. This is kindness, not obligation.”
         “Oh, but sir, I insist on paying you back somehow. Perhaps a service of some kind.”
         He laughed. “Madam, I refuse payment of any sort. Come, it grows dark.”
With that he led her to his house and provided her with food and a warm bed. “God bless you, sir. You are a kind soul,” she told Virgil just before she slept.
         He did not want the lovely maiden to know, however, that for her to sleep there, he slept in hay.

         The next morning, before she awoke, Virgil retrieved an apple for her, and laid it beside her bed. When she woke, Virgil was already outside working, caring for his animals. She was pleased with this kindness, and ate the apple quite happily.
         “Sir?” she stepped outside, looking for him.
         “Yes, my lady?” he answered while cleaning off his hands.
         “I believe we’ve yet to be properly introduced.”
         “Why, madam, I believe you’re correct,” he laughed. “My name is Virgil,” he shook her delicate hand quite gently, and kissed it.
         She laughed. “I am Beatrice.”
         “Why, your name is as lovely as your face, madam.”
         She smiled. “Thank you again, sir, for all your kindnesses.”
         “Oh, it is no trouble at all. I am happy to help you.”
         “Tell me, sir,” she looked at him with her dazzling eyes, “how is it that you are so virtuous, and all the others here are so vile?”
         “Madam, I will not profess to be virtuous, though I wish to be. As for the other villagers, I do not know, to be completely truthful. I have not always been here; I came upon this place by chance. The villagers were just as vicious before I was here.”
         “But sir, you are a gentle and godly man. Why did you stay? The villagers are all so sinful and cruel, why ever would you?”
         “Well, the villagers do not worry me. Only for their souls do I worry on behalf of their behavior, not my own. However, what made me stay were these kind beasts,” he pointed to his horses and dogs, “When I arrived they were very poorly tended, and due to the pity I felt deep in my heart, I knew I must stay and care for them.”
         “Goodness. How noble.”
         “Heavens no, madam,” he then thought about her tattered dress. “Goodness! How rude of me! I’ve not even thought of your ruined dress. Please, let me purchase a replacement for you.”
         “Oh, no sir, I wouldn’t think of it. Do not trouble yourself, I made this dress myself, I am certain I can repair it just as easily,” which she soon did, and it was more beautiful than he ever thought it would have been.

         The lovely Beatrice felt that she liked this man, and that he had a kind way. She talked with him often, and they soon became dear friends.
         However, the villagers hated Beatrice even more than they hated Virgil. Although Virgil was just as gentle and kind as she, he was more reclusive, and mostly kept to himself, as they liked him to. Beatrice, in contrast, was much more forward. If a cruel action was done toward Virgil, he would reply politely and irritate the villager. But if a cruel action was done toward Beatrice, she would speak of the Lord, contradicting the action with the Word, and this would enrage the villager.

Good Ending

         Late one night, Virgil was awakened by an unknown cause. He found himself strangely lacking in fatigue, and went outside to check on the animals, thinking perhaps one of them had woken him up. To his surprise, he found one of the horses missing, but the door to their shelters was neatly closed. Suspiciously, he looked inside at Beatrice’s bed and found her gone.
         Thinking perhaps that that was indeed what woke him up, he sensibly reasoned that she was not far. Looking around, he saw fresh hoof prints in the dirt, and followed them. Sure enough, she and the horse were not far away. He decided to follow her in secret.

         Soon enough, she stopped at a field. Virgil thought this to be odd, but nevertheless, stopped where she did, and watched from afar. She dismounted the horse, and in her lovely violet gown, walked to the center of the field and fell to her knees.
         The sight before Virgil now was a beautiful one indeed. Beatrice’s loose sleeves flowed in the wind with her long hair, and she was surrounding by tall shimmering grass and flowers. To Virgil’s confusion, however, she seemed mournful and sad. Scarcely could he understand words that she spoke seemingly to no one. He snuck closer, from tree to tree, until he was in earshot. He kept carefully though to stay behind her, that she may not discover him.
         “These people… they do not desire change,” she spoke sadly, “They are ignorant, and refuse to be taught. I am distressed. I yearn for nothing more than peace for these souls. The men, they will not work, and the women, they will not care for the children, and the children, they have no one to comply with. The villagers perform all acts of sin, and feel no remorse. There is only a single pious soul, and he was as such before I came. He will be the only one to enter into your kingdom.”
         She kept silent for a few moments, and said, “I do not understand…” then in a more desperate tone of voice, lifted her lovely countenance to the sky. “What shall I do, Lord? All of my efforts have proved hopeless!” She kept her face toward the sky she spoke to, still distressed, before she was touched by a divine light, and was quite peaceful.
         “Yes, Lord. I understand.”
         Virgil’s amazement now grew incredibly, as he watched what happened to this lovely girl. The wind began to blow harder, but not fiercely, and her hair and gown with it. Beatrice began to sing quite angelically, and a pair of glorious wings emerged from her shoulders.
         Scarcely could Virgil hold in his voice at this magnificent sight. He gazed upon the shining white feathers of her wings and knew that they were quite beautiful. He listened to her sing, and knew the same.
         She sat and sang for what seemed like a very short time, but indeed was quite extended, before she stopped. About her wings there was then a brilliant light, too brilliant for Virgil’s eyes to behold, and he hid them. When he no longer felt the light near he uncovered his eyes, and saw that the wings were gone. Beatrice stood and bowed her head. “Lord, I am thy faithful servant,” she uttered quite humbly, and went away to the horse to ride back to the village.
         Virgil’s senses then alarmed him that he must defeat Beatrice home, so that she would not know he had followed her. This proved to be simple, since she rode slowly to keep quiet.
         When she returned, she carefully put the horse back into his stable and snuck back into bed. Virgil had already gotten back and faked sleep.

         The next morning, Beatrice was very happy. She danced and spoke to Virgil quite merrily. “Today I feel quite brazen and glad,” she said to him, “I will venture into the village and attempt at softening their hearts.”
         “Why Beatrice, whatever for?”
         “I want these people to right their wrongs,” and with this she left, and Virgil stayed to tend to his remaining work. Once he was finished he followed.

         Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, Beatrice had already angered the villagers. She spoke of God, and of all things relating to God, and the villagers, being wicked as they were, would hear it no longer.
         “The Lord be damned!” one man shouted.
         “We make our own laws here!” said a woman, “You will not have us believe in this righteous godly nonsense!”
         “The Lord is your shepherd!” Beatrice still pushed on, “If you continue on without God you will surely suffer in the bottomless pit of hell, forever and ever.”
         “You are a fool!” cried a villager.
         “We cannot see this, how do you know it to be true?” cried another.
         “The Lord is in my heart, and I feel Him more vividly than ever I could feel a mortal’s skin,” she professed.
         “We will hear no more of this!” a strong man exclaimed, and took Beatrice’s arm quite roughly, and hurled her to the ground. Another man joined him, and pushed her down when she had partially regained posture. “Have you no fear of us?” he pondered.
         “The Lord is with me. Therefore, no, sir. I have no fear of you.”
         This declaration infuriated the villagers, and with no hesitation they all proceeded to hit her. They beat and attacked her, seemingly with the intent to kill.
         Virgil was then approaching, and observed the incident. He was deeply alarmed, and, knowing Beatrice’s divine truth, struggled his way through to her and frantically drug her out.
         When this was done, Beatrice quickly got to her feet and shone a radiant light all around her. Her wings then emerged gloriously again from her shoulders, and every feather glistened and was beautiful.
         This sight was so brilliant that every spectator was dumbfounded, and fell to their knees in overwhelming remorse and humility, and in their hearts they knew the glory of God to be true.

Sad Ending

         Late one night, Beatrice stole into the night, and took one of Virgil’s horses. She was careful not to awaken him; he was not meant to see where she went.
         She rode on until she reached a field, which she stopped at, dismounted the horse, and in her lovely violet gown walked to the center of the field and fell to her knees.
         The sight now that no one would see was a beautiful one indeed. Beatrice’s loose sleeves flowed in the wind with her long hair, and she was surrounding by tall shimmering grass and flowers. Despite her incredible beauty, however, she was mournful and sad.
         “These people… they do not desire change,” she spoke sadly, “They are ignorant, and refuse to be taught. I am distressed. I yearn for nothing more than peace for these souls. The men, they will not work, and the women, they will not care for the children, and the children, they have no one to comply with. The villagers perform all acts of sin, and feel no remorse. There is only a single pious soul, and he was as such before I came. He will be the only one to enter into your kingdom.”
         She kept silent for a few moments, and said, “I do not understand…” then in a more desperate tone of voice, lifted her lovely countenance to the sky. “What shall I do, Lord? All of my efforts have proved hopeless!” She kept her face toward the sky she spoke to, still distressed, before she was touched by a divine light, and was quite peaceful.
         “Yes, Lord. I understand.”
         The wind began to blow harder, but not fiercely, and her hair and gown with it. Beatrice began to sing quite angelically, and a pair of glorious wings emerged from her shoulders.
         She sat and sang for a time that was quite extended, and stopped. About her wings there was a brilliant light, and then her wings were gone. She stood and bowed her head. “Lord, I am thy faithful servant,” she uttered quite humbly, and went away to the horse to ride back to the village.

         The next morning, Beatrice was very happy. She danced and spoke to Virgil quite merrily. “Today I feel quite brazen and glad,” she said to him, “I will venture into the village and attempt at softening their hearts.”
         “Why Beatrice, whatever for?”
         “I want these people to right their wrongs,” and with this she left, and Virgil stayed to tend to his remaining work. Once he was finished he followed.

         Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, Beatrice had already angered the villagers. She spoke of God, and of all things relating to God, and the villagers, being wicked as they were, would hear it no longer.
         “The Lord be damned!” one man shouted.
         “We make our own laws here!” said a woman, “You will not have us believe in this righteous godly nonsense!”
         “The Lord is your shepherd!” Beatrice still pushed on, “If you continue on without God you will surely suffer in the bottomless pit of hell, forever and ever.”
         “You are a fool!” cried a villager.
         “We cannot see this, how do you know it to be true?” cried another.
         “The Lord is in my heart, and I feel Him more vividly than ever I could feel a mortal’s skin,” she professed.
         “We will hear no more of this!” a strong man exclaimed, and took Beatrice’s arm quite roughly, and hurled her to the ground. Another man joined him, and pushed her down when she had partially regained posture. “Have you no fear of us?” he pondered.
         “The Lord is with me. Therefore, no, sir. I have no fear of you.”
         This declaration infuriated the villagers, and with no hesitation they all proceeded to hit her. They beat and attacked her, seemingly with the intent to kill.
         Virgil was then approaching, and observed the incident. Despite his care for her, he moved toward the mob slowly. For a moment he watched them hit her. Suddenly, an alarming white rage overwhelmed Virgil, and scarcely could he judge his own actions.
         Seemingly a moment later, Virgil’s senses rekindled, and he was quite puzzled. The knowledge of his actions then rushed to him. He had participated in attacking Beatrice.
         In his shock he looked around him at the villagers, and all were walking away unscathed. Virgil then saw that he was the only one who felt any remorse for his actions, and he fell to his knees in great sorrow before Beatrice’s dead body, next to her broken, tattered wings.