Derek sat alone beneath a living crystal tree, its translucent leaves chiming gently in the breeze that only angels could hear. The sky above him shimmered not blue, but in hues of warmth and wisdom, shaped by the thoughts of the sanctified.
In his hand, a goblet of fruit nectar—light-golden and glowing faintly—trembled with the pulse of his quiet heart.
He took a slow sip.
Still sweet.
Still perfect.
But nothing—nothing—tasted the same since the day Raphael fell.
He leaned back, staring into the sky that held no storms, no ashes, no pain. A place so clean, so full of order… and yet, there had been doubts. Once.
He had doubted, too.
"I remember," he murmured, "how I asked the High Priest questions that no one dared speak aloud. Not out of rebellion. Not out of pride. Just… confusion."
When the weight of those questions had become too much, Derek had done the unthinkable—he went into the Waters of Understanding, a sacred pool that stripped away all impurities of thought, all lingering fractures of faith.
He had emerged clean. Whole. Redeemed.
He had stayed.
But Raphael…
"I should have told him," Derek whispered. "I should've dragged him to the waters myself if I had to. He trusted me. I was his brother. His blood oath."
He looked down at the goblet. Its glow dimmed slightly in his hand.
"He only doubted because I did first," Derek said. "He only listened because he loved me. I planted the seed. He bore the curse."
A wind stirred the gardens, silent to mortal ears but deafening to the soul. Derek sighed.
"I was saved. He was cast down."
He looked toward the edge of Heaven, where no angel ever walked unless summoned. A place that stared across eternity—toward the fractured world below.
"Now he walks among the dead. Probably he's in the Mortal realm. Bleeds with the broken. Protects a child that even the stars don't yet understand."
Sigh
He took another sip, slower this time.
"So ironic," he said, voice full of pain and wonder. "In my purity, I was silent. And in his exile… he became a guardian."
He stared into the horizon, wondering—was it too late to reach him?
And if Raphael ever returned...
Would Heaven still bar its gates?
Derek's hands trembled now, though no wind touched him. The goblet slipped slightly in his grasp, and a drop of nectar fell onto the grass below—where it vanished without a trace.
He didn't notice.
His thoughts spiraled.
"What if he returns… and comes for me?"
Not in anger.
Not in forgiveness.
But in cold silence.
> "What if… when Raphael finds out I stayed… that I didn't fall with him…"
His breath hitched.
"Will I have to fight him?"
His wings shifted slightly, feathers trembling as old doubts stirred again. The same doubts that once nearly dragged him down with Raphael… and that even now, years later, still whispered through his thoughts like distant thunder.
"Would he forgive me?" Derek asked the wind.
Silence answered.
"No," he said, bitterly. "He was cast down. Forgiveness doesn't grow in the Pit. That's why they're down there. That's what makes them fallen."
He stood quickly, too quickly, the goblet nearly tipping from his hand.
"I'm getting… worked up," he muttered. "This isn't holy. This isn't clear."
He looked once more toward the far horizon, where Vystriaa's borders shimmered like a dream above the broken world.
"Should I try that way?"
A dangerous decision to descend into the world of the broken, even if it means risking exile — to find Raphael.
" Am definitely sure that he survived,I mean come on,he his Raphael. He is wise".
Then something struck Derek: "Which angel or fallen isn't wise?"
Sigh
" My guts keeps telling me that he survived the pit and would be in the Mortal realm. If I meet up with him and explain,perhaps he might forgive me. Am sure he isn't fully consumed by the darkness,come on he's not the dangerous type and he just recently fell into darkness".
" Sigh, what am I saying?"
Then he turned sharply and walked with purpose, whispering:
"I need to speak to High Priestess Verionica."
The name alone brought a shiver of reverence. The Seer of the Silver Pool. Guardian of Memory and Mind. If anyone could untangle what was happening in his soul—if anyone could see into Raphael's stormed heart—it was her.
"I need understanding," Derek murmured. "Before I break again."
He walked faster.
Above, the crystal leaves rustled softly. Somewhere deep in Vystriaa's sacred vaults, a light flickered. A small one. But not unnoticed.
Would Derek risk it all by disobeying the orders of Heaven and descend into the Broken world to find his lost Sworn Brother ?
Find out for more
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