literature

G.E.N. Original Beginning

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     It was cold, a notion he had never felt before.

   What was this? Little flakes of frozen water floated down from the cloudy gray sky. The land was in darkness; it was winter, he realized. He looked about the snow-blanketed land, and watched the snow-bogged trees. He listened to the world but…silence. There was only silence in this heavy weald.

   The man gave a sigh, shaking his head only to wince from the pain of moving. He was alone now; a bird, far from home, with no where to go and no one to be with. Exiled…he gritted his teeth and decided then and there that he would never need anyone ever again. He was his own Lord, his own person, his own…all alone…

   His silvery hair fell into his pale face, covering his stormy gray eyes. For now, he would need rest. His arrival here had not been a pleasant one.  Being tired and needing sleep was an odd feeling, but a powerful one. As he closed his eyes, he wrapped his two large, gray wings around his robed form. The snow and icy grip of winter would not take him tonight…if the dangers of this forest did not. There was a rustle, but he paid no mind to it. The Sandman had already worked his magic.
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   The light…he missed it. Only now it was an uneasy feeling he felt now that he was near it; the celestial glow of the Great Heavens had become bright to him. Almost feeling sick, the man walked up the marble stairs. He was unable to look at anyone, and no one was able to look at him. A mask of unfeeling was on everyone’s face. The air was stale and it had become hard to breathe. His heart, however, was stone.

   He continued up the stairs until the light had become unbearable and he had to stop. Before him stood the Council. Seraphims, you could say. Each one a light, different from the other. Yet they were no better than him. Still his heart pounded in fear of them; he went on his hands and knees.

   “Angel!” came one of the Council’s call. Another came after, one by one, but it was the same voice talking to him. Reprimanding him.
   “You have sinned, angel.”
   “Abused your gift and done wrong.”
   “Blood has been shed.”
   “For this, punishment must be dealt.”

   He blinked, shocked and afraid yet he could not speak back to them. It was not permitted. His heart thumped swiftly; this was it for him. His end had come.
   “And the punishment…”
   “…is exile.”

   The angel looked up, unable to speak. Exile? No! They couldn’t do that!
   “You will be sent to the mortal plane.”
   “To stay-“
   “-and stay forever.”

   It was then he could feel his power being stripped. The purity of his wings dulled to a gray; all that things that made him what he was disappeared with a painful tug. A laughter then fill the air, growing louder and louder. It was deafening, but it did not stop there. Everyone surrounded him, faces like shadows. One by one his feathers were ripped from his bleeding bones, their laughter not stopping.

   A dream…a nightmare! It had to be! He found himself screaming, tears streaking down his face…
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   He awoke. His chest was heaving as a few drops of sweat trickled down his temples. Yes, a nightmare. It was all just a dream, exaggerating his fall. His tried to sit up, noticing that amidst last night’s endeavors to thrash the terrible visions away, he had unfolded his wings to the cold.

   He should have been dead.

   His fingers brushed along the soft and warm wool blanket that covered his body. The man frowned; who had covered him with this? He looked around as he heard a similar rustle to the one last night. His eyes widened; a little girl stepped out from the darkness casted by the trees. Her hair was a dark brown hue and her eyes like the sky: a pure blue. A shy smile was on her face, a loaf of bread and bowl of water in her arms. He watched as she took a few steps forward, placing these items in front of him before retreating to behind a tree. She stood there, watching him with tired eyes. Had she been here all night? The angel couldn’t understand; why was the child here? Why was she trying to help him?

   “Get away from here…” he said weakly, his voice cracked from lack of use. There was no hiding, however, the rage in his tone. “Get away from me…!” he shouted a little louder, teeth gritted. Frightened, the little one ran off but even after she was gone, the man continued his tirade in a crazed and distressed manner. He spouted venom from his words, stubborn tears welling up in his eyes. He kicked his legs, covering the loaf in snow and throwing the blanket off. Like a child that had enough of life, he cried and continued his tantrum. “I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! Just go away! Just go away…!” He went forward on his knees, fingers digging into his temples as flashes of his nightmare repeated over and over in his head. Soon, words weren’t even words anymore. Then…silence.

   Time had passed before the angel came to his senses. He laid in the snow, wool coverer lost to the winds. Such a weakness in him was growing…hunger. Without thinking, he dug his fingers into the snow and pulled out the soggy, cold bread. He shouldn’t eat this…it was filthy…Then again, so was he.

   He bit into the loaf, forcing himself to swallow the revolting piece and keep tears in. That girl…his thoughts kept going back to her. “She’s not coming back,” he whispered meekly to himself. “Not after what I did…I am all alone, and so I will die that way…”

   He went to sleep that night, heavy-hearted, expecting the winter’s chilling winds to send for the Reaper. He deserved it…didn’t he?
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   The next day he woke with déjà vu! A wool blanket, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of water…and the blue-eyed child. The girl was badly hidden behind the same tree, poking her head out to stare at him. For some strange reason he felt relieved that she was here. Even more so than his confusion of ‘why’. Either way…he wasn’t alone anymore.

   Wincing, he reached for the hard pastry and took a bite. Terribly stale, he thought, but took another piece into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he looked to the girl. “Won’t you come here?” he asked gently, beckoning her to come forth. No reply, no movement.

   “What is your name?” Nothing.

   “Don’t you have parents to go to?” Silence. The angel frowned, his gray wings giving a shudder of frustration. What was with this girl?!

   This continued on for a week. Every morning, when the man would awake, he would be warm and greeted with food and water. The little girl would always watch in silence and then leave when evening came upon them. Never did she answer his questions, but he noticed her coming nearer with each passing day....
Before I decided G.E.N. was going to be a comic....I wanted it to be a book. However, things dragged on and on in the first few chapters of G'hemni's section and I thought...."I Am Not Doing This".

This was how far I went before quitting.
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