A CHANCE ENCOUNTER.

Chapter: 5.

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The Ceruleanians are known as the White-winged and to the mortals; angels, the bringers of Goodwills, and messengers of the Third Heavens. They Ruled over the Earth and served directly under the Third Heavens. They were the first celestial beings to be created by the Third Heavens after the Gods created the Heavens and Earth. They Ruled over the Earth and served directly under the Third Heavens. Ceruleanians now known as Angels after Obenis Laws, were allowed to have free will, and it was an angel's duty to serve as a messenger and bring good word and knowledge to the humans. And this is precisely what Azrael did for a long time. He traveled across Plains and Planets and brought good tidings to its inhabitants oftentimes helping in escorting Souls of the Dead across the Black Death River.

As a busy Angel, Azrael led a decent lifestyle, adored by many, feared by some. He was friendly and well-suited to his job and the people he served. But even then, Azrael had a tendency to get carried away with his duties; so he made time to go wandering the Unclaimed Grounds. He would often find time to wander into the Silent Grounds to free his Spirits of their many hidden burdens.

The Shivvarians after the War and Obenis Laws, became known as the Dark-winged and to the mortals; demons, evil spirits, and bringers of destruction. The Rulers of the Underworld, guardians of darkness, and escorts of Souls across the Bridge into their final place of Judgment after they have been brought to the edge of the Black River by a messenger Angel. But this does not bring a Cerulean and a Shivvarian together, as the Ceruleanians are often guided by bright lights, so great that they are never shown to a Shivvarian.

And above all, A Cerulean is given the divine ability to transform and take upon themselves the fleshy bodies of the mortals. But, to a Shivvarian, it was not so. They can only take the forms of wild beasts of the Earth, and when they are cut, they shall bleed red like the mortals. It was a curse brought upon them by Obenis's Laws after the Second war.

A chance encounter brought about the two wandering Spirits into the place known as The Silent Grounds; A place of secrets. Now, the Silent Grounds is known as the Unclaimed land. Owned by neither Gods nor Demons. It was simply a place birthed from the Tears of Phiophis the god of abundance, who took upon himself death when he found his one true love deceased even before he could confess his deepest desire.

The young god took death as his punishment and the Silent Grounds became his burial mound and his eternal home. It was said that his spirits floated the Grounds, his tears constantly dripped into the Lands like raindrops, and thus the Grounds were often found wet and fertile, drenched by the tears of the god, and bathed in mist and cold. Anyone who bears within themselves a burden they could not speak to another celestial being would be found wandering the Silent Grounds, and muttering their secrets into the endless mist.

It was in this place they found each other for the first time.

A union that should never have been born.

Azrael a white-winged often found his steps within the Silent Grounds, and more often than not, the restless spirit would be found pacing the Grounds, speaking secrets that shall not be heard by another.

It was in one of these many circumstances, that he found his eyes lingering on that of a Shivvarian. It would also be the first time he would be seeing one other than the illustrations of them on the stained glass in the Halls of Wisdom. Azrael's eyes lingered on the oblivious Shivvarian, he watched him pace the Grounds, heard his whispers, and his soul melted for him.

Azazel felt the eyes boring into the back of his head. He turned and his eyes fell into the Cerulean who watched him from a distance. And for a moment, the Silent Grounds stood still, becoming even more quieter. The constant whispers of the Damned god spirits became silent, and both the Shivvarian and the Cerulean shared an unspoken understanding. Both knew they were not alone at that moment.

And a feeling so strange they could not comprehend swallowed their spirits at that moment.

Azazel's eyes flickered to the Cerulean once again, his eyes held the same emotion that Azrael's did. A mix of awe and sorrow. He was just as he was told. The Ceruleanians were Heavenly Beings, with golden flawless skin, golden eyes, and elegant golden wings, that he was certain would feel soft to the touch, unlike his which held spikes at the edges. Slender limbs, strong body, gracefully graceful gait, untainted, a picture of perfection and godliness. His robe hung smoothly from his body as if there was no weight attached to them, giving the appearance of being weightless. They held powers, unlike anything a Shivvarian could ever begin to imagine or had ever seen.

The Shivvarian found himself lost and confused as the longer he stared into those golden eyes, the deeper his spirits burned, and his soul for the first time began to awaken within him. It felt as if he was in pain, a useless comparison to a Demon with no sense of self or emotion, but the feeling lingered. His body was numb as an unresponsive statue. Still, it was the first time that he had actually felt anything other than anger. He could not deny that his heart screamed with longing as those beautiful eyes looked at him so deeply that he feared the other would find all the secrets hidden beneath the layers of darkness.

But he would not look away.

Even if he shall die from the cursed feeling surging through his spirits, he shall not look away.

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In contrast to his golden skin, the Shivvarian held a darker tone, his eyes were deep and red, like the Gateway to Dreamixar, the Land of Nightmares. Yet, the white-winged could not look away. Strong black wings, and elegant horns, rose from his temples and curved toward his forehead, the tips glistening with Infernal glow, while sharp claws protruded from the fingertips of each hand. His face was beautiful, yet deadly and cold. Their eyes were riveted in an eternal staring contest, never breaking eye contact as they stared at one another. The Shivvarian was a beautiful Being, yet there was something about him that was frightening. Like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. And his Prey... the Cerulean.

The Ceruleanian took a step forward but was pushed back by an unseen force. It was the power of the Second Law. 'Darkness and Light Have Nothing In Common And Therefore Shall Not Meet.’ They were forbidden to stand too close to each other even if they stood within the Silent Grounds, still, the Laws of Obenis prevailed even in this place.

"What is your name, Cerulean?"

A voice like fire rippled into the quietude of the Grounds, filling the silent space around them, startling the Damned god Phiophis. He may have died thousands of years ago, yet his spirits owned this place, and they could feel his presence even in their midst.

"My name is Azrael." He spoke softly. "And you, Shivvarian?"

A smile slit the demon's lips at his use of the word Shivvarian. It seemed so utterly misspoken, like such a name should never be uttered by a Ceruleanian for they were pure heavenly bodies. Yet, it rose a fire within the Shivvarian, and his endless heart raged loudly within.  "Azazel." He returned coldly, watching intently at the many expressions which swept across the Cerulean’s face. "My name is Azazel." He repeated, this time holding warmth in his tone.

The Cerulean laughed softly, and it was the sweetest sound Azazel ever heard. This was followed by a smile that could melt the heart of any who looked upon it. It filled Azazel with a different kind of emotion. And among the many emotions cursing through him, one stood out above all, and that one was; Jealousy. He longed to keep the angel's smile all to himself. No one else is more deserving of his smiles but him.

If only he could snap him away from sight, from all their eyes, and hide him away in a place where only he knows.

But, the Damned Laws. It kept them apart, and would not allow him the angel's closeness.

"It looked like our names matched all too perfectly, my Shivvarian friend."

Friend? The Shivvarian thought with a silent chuckle. How can a Ceruleanian call a Shivvarian friend? It was forbidden to behold the face of a Ceruleanian, more so to speak to one. And yet, he called him, friend! But Azazel loved the endearment, he wanted to be addressed as his friend.

Just him.

And at that moment, Azazel knew that if he were to ever bleed, it would be by the hands of the Cerulean who laughed and smiled at him. Only he could truly hurt, and bring him to his knees. He took a step forward but the Cerulean turned his back to him and vanished before his eyes.

And the Shivvarian could not follow.

A curse was born.

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