One Winged Angel

Short Version

By LoveAnimeForever


Early as it was, bird-song filled my ears and the sun's white radiance blinded my eyes; the world was already alive, already awake, the silence – broken only by lonely cricket chirps – of the previous night long forgotten. From the trees, I could see the clearing, a peaceful haven, lush and perfectly circular as if bordered by a fairy ring, with butterflies flitting above the tall, seemingly shining grass – such was the strength of the morning light.

And it was into this haven I stole – yes, stole, like a thief in the night.

I stepped into the grass, carefully, gingerly, my eyes pinned to the ground. And the dancing nymphs seemed to part for me, along with their colorful pet butterflies, swaying lightly in the soft breeze. The whispering oracle also bent my hair, and diffused into my mind, murmuring of things to come, if only its cryptic message could be deciphered. Perhaps it merely wished me to move on – on. I allowed myself to be pushed inwards, until I came to a path, where the nymphs simply refused to tread, and the earth could be seen clearly – brown – bare. I could have entered by the path too, had it been convenient, but I had been in a hurry – and thieves never enter through the door, anyway.

My foot landed itself on the dirt, and the whispers silenced themselves, the bird-song ceased. The world hushed itself for the visitor who had come to visit… Visit what, exactly? I dared now to look towards my goal, a monument in the centre of this fairy ring, with four paths branching out in each cardinal direction. I was on one of them, the one that showed me the face of the stone figure I knew was waiting for me. He stood in bleak majesty against the cerulean expanse behind him, the despair of one against the renewing hope of the world around him…

As if in response to the thought, the wind returned, bringing its prophetic whispers and light bird-song with it; the grass resumed its dance, and the butterflies readily obliged. If I had been a romantic fool – more romantic than I already am, and to a fault – I would have waited for a fawn to pass behind the trees I had emerged from; but I wasn't. So I looked towards the sun – that I realized had been muted – expecting it to resume its former brightness; but I was only in time to watch as my namesake covered it, a cloak swallowing up its master.

I looked again to the statue, and I saw his shadow.

Yes, the monument was despair – despair of the body that lay beneath, despair of the spirit that haunted above.

Yet, it was magnetic, it drew me in; I was a blind lamb following its shepherd.

And I found I was at the altar, before that magnificent tribute; he stood high and mighty on his pedestal like a god – but then, who was to say he wasn't a god? When his model had been alive, he had been so very close to becoming one… And I – even I – the one who vanquished that Lucifer, cannot deny it. Because here I was, dreamily approaching, all too ready to kneel at his feet.

I managed to keep myself upright, and turned my face towards his. The chiseled features; the cruel smirk; the lean yet imposing – because tall – figure; the blade that had nearly wrested my life away… And yes: the crown of glory that would mark this tomb as his forevermore, even if the Latin inscription wore itself away with time. The one raven's wing, splayed out in all its splendor. Each feather was carved with the most minute detail, and it looked so real… Melding into the darkening skies, it looked so alive…

I could feel the stone eyes pierced my soul as if they were not dead marble, but living flesh… The hand that held Masamune's stone sister seemed to quiver, ready to break free of its inanimate prison, ready to strike the non-believers, or worse – the unfaithful. The hair, too, flowed, and the black cloak he wore blew in the wind with the nymphs and the butterflies that worshipped… And the stone moved; whispered forbidden words in my ears, explained everything the birds sang and the wind whispered. They spoke of the same thing, he said; and he told me that the sun would no longer shine – the sun would no longer have anything to shine for

And he told me, as he stepped off his pedestal, to kneel in his ever-expanding shadow; to embrace his smothering despair; to acknowledge that he – the stone idol come to life, with eyes and hair and fangs of silver, and clothes and heart of black – was God.

I heard his words; I forgot that I had to return to the people I had stolen away from, that I had stolen from; that they still needed what they had crowned their sun, their false god.

A bolt of lightning – I knelt.

A roll of thunder – I despaired.

The rain fell – I cried.

The raindrops and their muted hissing sealed the sun behind the clouds, sealed the light behind the darkness, sealed the hope behind the despair; the teardrops mingling with their heavenly brothers sealed my submission to the one-winged angel that stood on its pedestal, unmoving and dead, and I realized… I realized…

And in crying, the skies submitted to the one-winged angel that stood on its pedestal, unmoving and dead, and I realized… I realized…

Veni, mi fili; Veni, mi fili…

Hic veni da mihi mortem iterum…

Veni, mi fili; Veni, mi fili…

Hic veni da mihi…


When the rain cleared, Kadaj decided to visit Sephiroth's grave; and he found Cloud kneeling at its feet. And then Kadaj realized Cloud wasn't kneeling…

He was dead.

Sephiroth!

Sephiroth!