Righto... I've been getting kinda inactive in writing here lately. So, to get some excitement spice into my boring life routine at the moment, I took a humble amount of time with Riviera. And then... this hit me. And honestly, I don't think anyone's done something like this as of yet. Maybe because it looks kinda difficult to write... which it sorta is, if you imagine it.
You know what? Lets just see how it goes.
Prologue - Story of Promises
"What could have changed what had once been final...?"
Asgard, realm of the gods...
Utgard, land of the demons...
Ragnarok - the war between the gods
and the demon invaders - cast the
world into a state of violent chaos.
Overrun by demons, Asgard teetered
on the brink of destruction.
He was being stupid. He really was. But he knew, even if he wouldn't understand it later on - after what would happen the moment he found himself moving - at all, that there would be a significance to his actions, to what would hopefully be what he thought it would.
In desperation, the gods broke
an ancient taboo and created
the Grim Angels.
Each armed with a Diviner,
the angels descended into battle...
"At least things are alright. Don't you think you should be happy that things are fine now?" he found himself saying, found himself spending more of what was dwindling so quickly. His companion only sent him a harshly narrowed stare, as if to actually wonder - and ask rather indirectly - if he was being right at all.
The boy only smiled - the last one he could ever give his friend before he found himself struggling to do so at all - and walked away.
The battle raged on, but through
their valiant efforts, the angels
brought an end to the war.
The demons were sealed away,
but the gods would soon follow.
Leaving their power behind in the
heavenly isle of Riviera, the gods
entrusted the land's inhabitants to
watch over it until their return...
"Hector wasn't pleased to hear of what happened," he started dryly, arms folded. "He is only sparing us from our punishment out of mere pity for your naivety and inexperience. In all honesty, just what were you thinking when you stepped into the Altar of Sacrifice? I suppose it is only due to a miracle that nothing worse has occurred due to your foolishness."
The sixteen year old gave him a blank stare, before he looked away, not in shame nor in embarrassment. Nothing at all.
"...I don't know. I can't understand why I did it anymore," he softly stated, his murky blue eyes closing.
1000 years passed quietly...
"He will remain here," the Magi, Hector, repeated firmly, pointing at the young Grim Angel besides him. "For his reckless behavior in disrupting the forging of your Diviner, he will be forced to stay behind for as long as Ragnarok lasts, unless an emergency forces us to dispatch him into the battlefield. Do not worry for him - he will be safe, and will be further trained as a Grim Angel."
He could only hide a disapproving frown, bow, and leave in a cold silence.
Signs of the demons' return were
rumored throughout Riviera.
The Seven Magi, proxies of the gods,
made a difficult decision for the sake
of Asgard's continued existance...
There was barely any time to meet him nowadays, but somehow, he managed to survive with the few scraps he lived on. During those rare opportunities of meeting, during those precious moments where he felt somewhat like himself and not a mere Grim Angel under the skies of battle, the two would spend it with either silence or weak chatter.
To people who could read the ever-changing faces of emotion, they would notice that his scare smile came with sad disappointment.
...To activate the diviner power
of destruction, "The Retribution."
For this, the Magi appointed this task
to beings well-suited for the job -
Black-winged angels of death,
the Grim Angels.
Occasionally, during the few times of 'freedom' - if he could ever call it as such - that he tasted, he simply had to wonder what it would have been like if he had never attempted his stupid (and still not understandable) mistake, or had been made a Grim Angel far later.
His sacrifice had been his wings, but that had all changed when he charged into the Altar of Sacrifice. And it was only on hearing what his friend's - if he could even call him that anymore - sacrifice was. It was still confusing him beyond anything, but for now, he made no attempts to understand.
A fellow Grim Angel - the only one that actually knew the consequences and the result of what had truly happened that day; a sole witness - and his familiar Rose, the only other companion he had, once asked him, "Do you regret it?"
He answered both with the same response, "Regret? Maybe. I really don't know - I don't have emotions anymore, remember?"
Perhaps it was because somewhere inside him, he knew he would never understand it any longer.
Now, two angels shall descend
onto the sacred soil of Riviera…
I'm pretty sure it's obvious to who the people are up there. And yeah... the POV changes might be a little confusing to grasp in the beginning too, but I've left subtle clues to that.
Review, and tell me what you think about it. No flames.