Twist of Fate

         Almost all of the angels gathered at the marble edge of Eternity. Their wings flashed blues and greens, there was even a spot of red scattered throughout the crowd. The Council had gathered outside the church, at the Edge, to discuss what to do about the One Born with Black Wings. Only the Fallen had black wings. Angels of Eternity were born with grey wings, which would settle when they had lived ten years. Different ranks among the angels had different colours, blues were healers, greens had no notable powers, reds were the assassins of the Council, and whites were part of the Council. Whenever someone crossed the Council, they Fell from Eternity and their wings turned black. But, ten years ago, an angel was born and instead of the customary dull grey, his were glossy black. So the Council had locked him away from the public. They had worked too hard installing their belief to have this child ruin it. So after his birth, the One Born with Black Wings soon became a rumor.
         The One Born with Black Wings was blinded by the sunlight after so many years in a cell under the church. As they pushed him forward a breeze brushed past and his wings spread slightly by themselves, simply to feel the wind. He instantly wished he hadn’t. The crowd yelled their disgust at this abomination, all of their eyes black. He shuffled forward looking toward the Council in front of him, with dark grey eyes. “Ten years ago today, an angel was born, under the same circumstance as any, but he was born with wings of the Fallen. He had committed no crime, but his wings said differently. Some have thought that this was the Twist of Fate, in which we believe, showing us what has yet to come. We have waited ten years to give his wings a chance to settle to a different colour. The Council feels that the One has given us warning. We have decided upon this belief, that he has no place in Eternity, and shall Fall to Earth.”
         The One Born with Black Wings couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. They all seemed to speak at once. It was said that the Council was as one being, but he hadn’t believed it until now. He watched as an angel with red wings tightened the chains around his wings, so there was no way he could fly. She pushed him towards the edge, the fall that would kill him. The assassin smirked as she wrapped the chains again around of his wings. “Have a nice Fall,” she whispered and pushed.
         At first he was sure this was how flying felt. He’d been forbidden from flying in Eternity, as he was an abomination.  The wind whistled past him, blowing his black hair from his face. He was able for a moment to forget everything, focus solely on the air all around him. Then suddenly the chains around his wings snapped tight. Panic consumed him for a moment. The chains were supposed to fall with him. He looked up and saw the angel with red wings that pushed him. Then he realized what had happened; the assassin had wrapped the chain so that she could hold it while it unraveled. For a moment he believed that she was helping him. His left wing had come free and he had stretched it to feel the wind. He heard the crack before he felt it. The chain had tightened around his right wing and broken the bone. He swung by the skin of his back that connected to his wing. He heard the laughter of the assassin before he began screaming.
         The One Born with Black Wings felt the chain dig into the skin and the tearing of the flesh as he fell. Then he saw his silky black wing fall, separate from his body. The pain detached him from his body as he spiraled down, trying to slow the fall with only one wing. He looked across the Earth, seeing mountains, forests and lakes for the first time. He crashed into the side of the mountain, bones cracking, silver blood staining the ground around him like snow. Heat coursed through him, and hitting the ground knocked the air out of him. The Fallen were supposed to die from the impact of hitting the Earth, the chains were only supposed stop them from flying, not tear their wings off. Then he wondered, “What did I do? Only those who cross the Council have black wings, only those who did something against the One. If there was a One, why would he ever want for his angels to have their wings torn off, simply for being born?”
         He was sure it didn’t matter, he was dying, he was losing too much blood. Suddenly there was a dark haired man standing over him. “What is this…an angel? But only one wing…Blood on the ground a few feet away from the body. And he’s breathing…fascinating.” The One Born with Black Wings wanted to tell him that it wasn’t fascinating, that he was dying, why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone, but suddenly he was being lifted up. The man gently threw him over his shoulder and began walking uphill. Then everything went black.