Melanie POV
The sky betrayed me. One moment it was painted in gold and crimson, the perfect sunset for my camera. The next, the colors bled into grey, and the wind howled as if the heavens were furious.
About ten minutes ago, I stood on a rock, trying to get the best angle to perfectly capture the beautiful sunset scenery before me.
After a lot of trials, I finally got it. I set up the camera and was about to take the picture when the atmosphere changed immediately, ruining the moment.
The gentle breeze got stronger and harsher with each passing second. The evening sky, painted in beautiful hues of orange and red with purple clouds scattered beautifully in the sky, turned grey and grew darker almost instantly.
Greenish-blue lightning bolts peaked out of the greenish-grey clouds as the sound of thunder grew louder as the bolts grew bigger. It was like the heavens were angry with the earth.
As the storm raged above me, somewhere beyond the clouds, a voice thundered across Aetheria…
" Leave. I do not want to see you here."
A loud voice spoke, causing the place to slightly shake due to the intensity of the voice.
" But, Father"
A male decked in a pure white garment with the hems of the sleeves and gown adorned with golden threads, looked up from the half-kneeling position he was in to the man whose face was hidden by a bright light with a gold crown on his head. The throne he sat on was made out of pure gold with different colorful gemstones embedded on the arms and legs of the throne.
The angel that was half kneeling childish face morphed into that of sadness at his father's words.
Among the angels, only one bore hair the color of fire — a mark that set him apart, and perhaps doomed him. The red hair he possessed, greatly contrasted with the white color of his wings.
Six males with huge wings, with three of them being to his right and the other three to his left, watching the judgement to be passed. Each male has a pair of really large wings which are slightly larger than the one behind it. The tips of the feathers in their wings were coated in silver. This signifies power, as the larger ones wings the more one's power, rank and responsibility.
" Father, I did not do anything wrong."
The red-haired angel said as he got up from his half kneeling position and walked closer to the long stairs that led to the throne his father was sitting on.
" Leave, I don't want to see your face here, " his father said.
" But where will I go? "he asked, inching closer to the throne.
The figure on the throne raised his hand and flicked his wrist. A strong gust of wind moved to the point where the red-haired angel stood.
His wings instinctively formed a protective cocoon around him, shielding him from the effect of the attack sent to him by the figure on the throne.
As his back hit the wall on the other side of the hall, his wings retracted backwards, returning to their normal form as a large object fell out of him.
The object was a bluish - grey sword which had strange wording etched on it from the handle to the tip of the blade on both sides. The words glowed bright red.
It was the Zophos blade. A very deadly blade created by the devil, the ruler of the underworld. The blade is able to kill any creature irrespective of their rank or race. There was only one problem associated with it. The creator or any other person can not wield it, which makes the inhabitants of both the underworld and heaven feel at ease.
The blade will glow bright red once it has found its wielder. Hence, it has been kept away for many centuries to prevent the wielder from finding it. And now, it glowed bright red in the red-haired angel's presence.
Gasps were heard from all sides of the hall as everyone present stared at the sword in shock.
"Banish him," A loud, clear voice spoke.
"Show him no mercy," another said.
" He's planning treason with the Devil," someone said, and the rest agreed with him.
" Banish him," all of them said at the same time.
The red-haired angel held his chest in pain as his wings could not save him from that attack. As he became conscious of his surroundings, he stared at the sword in front of him in shock, wondering why it was in his front.
On hearing the words of his brothers, he tried to speak to defend himself, but he coughed out blood instead.
" Father" he started .
" You've done enough," the figure said as he stretched out his hands. On his palm, a fiery bolt appeared. He flicked his wrist and the red-haired angel wings caught fire.
The males present were all shocked by the judgement passed as they were expecting a lesser punishment than what he was given. They could not do anything but listen to the cries of their youngest brother.
The bolt used on him was the bolt of thousands of flames. It is rarely used as there has not been a serious situation where it would be needed. It is used on angels that are banished to prevent their urge to return. Wings were basically an angel life and dignity. Without it, the angel is as good as dead as he has moved to a point lower than mortals.
Screams erupted from the mouth of the angel as the fire continued to spread, reducing everything it touched to ashes, destroying what made him whole and complete to ashes.
The angel sat on the floor as he held the ashes of his lost wings, mourning the loss of his wings as a doorway appeared under him, and he fell through it.
As the doorway swallowed him whole, his last thought echoed louder than the thunder: *What crime had I committed, Father?*
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