We were proud and strong and fearless.
We set forth to conquer the World.
Our boots were black and shined under the Sun.
The sky was a deep and beautiful blue, and it was clear that The Lord Our God wanted us to do this.
The beautiful maidens gave to us love and promises.
Our King had given to us a bright and beautiful Future.
We set forth and saw the vast ocean and held the fear of the unknown deep inside of ourselves.
The Captain had the men put forth the beautiful banner and we sailed away.
The World scintillated, sparkled, shining as we forced the men to eat their lime.
They had no understanding of the wonder of the riches of which they would partake if they simply obeyed. They had been given a wonderful opportunity.
It was difficult to understand what they were. It was difficult to understand why they troubled us.
It was tiresome, but the peasants had to be controlled.
They forced us to whip them from time to time, and to throw them overboard when they became most recalcitrant. For some reason, some of the men lost their minds simply because they were aboard ship.
They thought that they could speak to the Noble-Born with impunity.
We sailed and we dreamed. We dreamed of the Beauties that awaited us in the New World. We dreamed of the Beauties at Home. We dreamed of Riches and Honour.
There was The Catastrophe.
Horrible bolts of blue and white struck down from Heaven.
The men screamed and wept.
The ships lost their way and we were confused.
I found my mind and found the Captain, but a bolt of light shattered our ship and the World changed.
He was dead, My Captain, but I grasped Him and searched for…something. The fire was everywhere; I could only try to breathe when I drowned.
The angry Sky and the vengeful Ocean kissed each other and doomed us all.
All of my friends were lost.
I saw a beautiful girl, perhaps an angel. No, certainly an Angel.
She was striding upon the angry and vast waves, the lightening and thunderous night not touching Her.
I held My Captain.
She came to me and regarded me.
She took my face and breathed Life into me.
“He is dead.”
“Come. Be with me.”
I was glad to be in Her arms.
We were on a shore. She had saved me. I loved Her.
She was strange and beautiful.
She looked different.
She reminded me of the kindest Angel I have ever known.
I found that She could not know Love, or I was simply not Good enough for Her to love me. Though She had saved me, I later found out that She was capable of mind-boggling rage that could sweep in, inexplicably, seemingly from nowhere. Rage that She would direct towards me, who loved Her.
She was, in a way, different, different than my Angel.
Her hair was a different color. Her eyes were different. Her smile was different.
But they were the same.
When She was a little angel, a Monster had done terrible things to her; like a Monster had done to The Kind One when She had been a little angel.
Terrible, horrible things, things that would change their lives forever.
Terrible, horrible things that The Lord Our God should have never let happen, should have never let be, especially not to angels.
I wait on the shore of The Sea of Pain and hope that She Herself has not drowned in it. I wait for any word or sight of Her, the angel that I shall always believe; that I shall always hope was not utterly destroyed by a monster.