I was there when the angels fell from the skies. Saw them glide on their wings of light. The awe in the eyes of my neighbours.
It was extraordinary.
Their radiant tethers reached out to us, and we felt their pain. Ruin. Loss. Fear.
And yet, hope. For they had us. They had been our guardians, and it was our turn to help them.
Demons had stolen their divine power. All they had left was their wings of light, and it wasn't enough. They needed us to build them a tower.
A tower to breach the skies.
We called it Sèrfin, with a face like a gleaming porcelain mask. No asperities but a single eye of a glowing, piercing yellow. It was difficult to perceive its body, as its whole being radiated light. (It was impossible to hide in their presence.)
Like the others, it had no voice, but its tethers reached out to us
to transmit thoughts and feelings. Strange and alien feelings. Hard to put into words. A pride and longing for the skies.
Unlike most of the angels, it helped with the gruelling work. Its many tethers could carry more than a single of us. Brick by brick, the tower was growing. (Following the blueprints was easy.) The rest of them assembled bricks in specific spots. Sometimes, a carving. Divine designs of mystical purposes.
At first, there was enthusiasm, a jubilation at the project. Soon, it dawned on most folks how laborious, how time-consuming this had become. There was no space for anything else. Our community had stopped everything. For them.
Resentment started bubbling here and there. If the tower was so important, why weren't they helping more? (When our folks were sweating and bleeding for their salvation.)
But then, there was Sèrfin. An urgency in its movements. A deep craving in its thoughts. (Home.) A tugging I couldn't ignore.
We worked twice as hard when the angel was around.
We'd been warned, the demons were to follow. To slaughter what was left of the angels. Wreak havoc on our world. (Unquenchable thirst for destruction.)
The tower would act as a beacon to them. (Like moths to a flame.) A blessing in disguise: we knew where they would attack. We could prepare.
We did.
I lead our strongest folk on a gathering mission to the behemoth carcass. (Slain before my time.) Dangerous fauna paved the way. We collected what was left of its teeth. Fangs bigger than my hand. We returned with our bounty and more. (A rib from the fallen.) Enough to craft harpoons to ground the demons. Sharp enough to pierce their chitin. (Terrifying images from the angels.)
We awaited with bated breath.
Finally, the day came. A gleaming black meteor fell close to the tower. The earthshattering wave knocked all the workers to their knees. We took arms just in time to see them fly towards us.
Gleaming carapace and dark wings. Sharp mandibles and feathered antennas. Shrill screeches and teetering chitters.
Our first throws were unsteady, but our aim was true. Soon, they retreated. We celebrated.
Yet, this was but the first wave.
An uncomfortable new normal settled as the demons built their hive inside the meteorite. Chittering filled the air. A warning that there was no more peace to be found.
After a few frontal attacks, the demons tried different approaches. Cutting off our supply lines. Sneaking inside our camps. But we held true.
One night, as I was rounding the perimeter around the tower, I found myself face to face with one of them. I was alone, yet it didn't attack. We stared at one another, immobile. Its big faceted eyes reflecting the light from my lantern. It took a few steps backwards, then, ran off. Vanished to the darkness.
I could not stop thinking about this encounter. Why would a demon run before a mere mortal such as I? And its behavior... like a startled beast.
The angels had instructed us to burn any demon we felled. Only light could truly defeat darkness. But what if...?
After our eventual next skirmish, I carried a demon body to a secluded area. Opened it up. Demons are beings of pure darkness, just as angels are beings of pure light. So why did this demon have internal organs?
Did the angels... lie to us?
I am a hunter. I know the beasts of these lands. I know how to track them, how to approach them, and how to tame them. If the demons are beasts, then maybe...
I knew where their hive was. The challenge was approaching without alarming them. So, I observed.
They had set up their own perimeter. Large black crystal formations protected the hive in a semi-circle facing the tower. (The same smooth material as the meteorite.) It was difficult to perceive anything beyond this barrier, but as I edged around I noticed a pack leaving from behind.
They were hunters, too. I witnessed them cornering local beasts. Bringing them back to the hive. If demons were creatures of pure destruction, what would they need beasts carcasses for? Why would they need the meat, the fur, the scales, the bones? (I didn't know what happened in the hive but what else could they want a carcass for?)
In my haste to learn more about them, I got careless. As I was circling through a small thicket, I found myself faced with two demons.
I stabbed my harpoon in the ground and stepped back, making a show of my empty hands. One kept its eyes on me, the other inspected the harpoon. Its clawed wings clumsily grabbed the weapon. It slipped from its grip and activated, the spear ricocheting on the rocks before finishing its course through a large shrub.
The other one approached me, mandibles clicking. When it got too close, I took a step back. It stopped. Again, it approached me, I stepped back, it stopped.
It took a step back. (I think it bowed its head?) It chittered, its large multifaceted eyes transfixed on me. Reached a wing to the ground, claw extended. Traced a symbol in the dirt. An eye in a circle surrounded by tendrils.
"An angel!"
It screeched, clawing at the symbol.
Tentatively, I crouched to trace my own. A tower, an angel, and an arrow up.
The demon observed, then clawed at the tower. Then at the angel.
"Why?" I cried at the creature. It hissed back.
I drew the symbols again, adding a stick figure at the bottom of the tower. I pointed at the stick figure and to myself, to associate the two together. It screeched again, clawing at the tower and angel.
"You're only after the tower and the angels?" I gestured to them and the symbols to make my point. It didn't seem to carry, so I drew some more.
A pair of wings with antennas. I pointed to them and the symbol to associate them. It chittered. Drew the stick figure, tower, and angel again, then pointed to the demon symbol again, and struck through the tower and angel, leaving the stick figure untouched. Pointed at the stick figure and myself again.
The demon chittered and flapped its wings, oddly skipping in place. Then, in a frenzy, it traced more symbols.
The tower. The angel. A down arrow. A butterfly. A stick figure on its side. The tower with a butterfly on top. More stick figures on their side.
"What's this?" I pointed at the butterfly.
It pointed at the tower, then clawed the tower and the butterfly, and finally, traced a stick figure standing up.
"Is the tower... bad?"
It stared at me. It didn't understand my words, just as I did not understand its chittering. Yet, a line of communication had been open.
I stayed at the hive. I couldn't go back. Not now.
I called the first demon I met Sundrop, for the symbols it traced when we attempted personal introductions. In time, I learned to recognize the peculiar chittering it used to call me.
Conversation was slow and frustrating. We would spend hours on even the simplest of ideas trying to get a common understanding, and concepts like the skies or the divine power of the angels had been impossible to convey.
According to them, the angels would use the tower to bring butterflies (still unclear) onto the world, which would make us sleep (I had at first interpreted this as death). The demons were here to destroy the angels and the tower to stop this from happening.
I got the sense that it wasn't their first time at this. Like a hunt they'd been on for ages. The angels their prized prey that kept escaping.
The hunts were the times we came as one. I taught my knowledge of the beasts, and they displayed their unmatched killing skills. I learned they, indeed, consumed the meat. They seemed enamored by the fur, decorating themselves and the hive with it.
The hive itself... I couldn't imagine any creature building something so intricate in such a short amount of time. The meteorite wasn't a warning of their arrival, and a convenient place to retreat. This was how they arrived here. The meteor had always been their hive.
After weeks of immersing myself with the winged beasts, Sundrop pushed me to rejoin my people. Pack stays together.
I was unsure how this would pan out. I'd left without warning. I was certainly assumed dead. My return would not be quiet and I could not simply offer the truth. Not under the watchful eye of the angels.
And what of my people? Would they trust me after fraternizing with the enemy?
