Fluorite #8, Oliphaunt Grey #3, Crimson #10

[shadowsong26]

Name: shadowsong26
Story: Monsters
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Fluorite #8. Bright/Tarnished, Oliphaunt Grey #3. Ah! the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter!, Crimson #10. You're not supposed to, you were ordered to. That's what this is about, proper orders.
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Sprinting), photography, miniature collection, stain, novelty beads ("Pulled in every direction/I've a million regrets/You're the perfect protection/When I'm diving in over my head." - Great Big Sea, Stumblin' In), yarn
Word Count: 393
Rating: PG-13
Characters: The Archangel, the Twins.
Warnings: References to kidnapping and war. Let me know if I missed any.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. The Archangel and the twins have names which will someday be revealed, but today is not that day. Last Oliphaunt Grey!


Age Two

Holy One, oh Holy One, what in Your universe did I do to deserve this?

I accepted guardianship of the children because otherwise it would have fallen to Gabriel, who is so sweet and would love them too much, or to Michaela which--my eldest sibling is brilliant at many things, but to place any child--let alone these children--in Michaela's care? This we could not do.

But Holy One, oh Holy One, I was not prepared for half-human toddlers! I am convinced, for the moment, that they are both monsters.

So I ask again, what did I do to deserve this?


Age Five

I was wrong. These children--not mine, though sometimes I think of them that way--are precious. There isn't an ounce of monstrousness in either.

They are not perfectly behaved, but small children rarely are. And they are sweet, and generous, and loving--with each other and me, and the few strangers I allow them to encounter; I know that both humans and angels need contact with their own, and while they have me...

Still. they are such sweet girls, and, oh, Holy One, I worry I am falling into the trap that Gabriel would have, but I know they are not monsters.


Age Eight

All right. All right, one of them is a monster, but I can't figure out which. They take it in turns, to be mischievous and sly, sneaking around where they think I can't see. But I can never, never tell which one.

And whichever one it is, she brings her sister along with her, and the good twin is too sweet, too kind, too loving to say no.

I think I'm failing at raising them, Holy One. I think that, like Michaela, I am too much an angel to handle their all-too-human bond.


Age Ten

I have to tell them now, and it breaks my heart.

I have to tell them how we stole them from their human mother, for fear she was too wounded to love them, or too human to raise nephilim, or both.

I have tell them one is a monster, the other perfect goodness made flesh.

I have to tell them I don't know which is which.

I have to tell them this, Holy One, and then I have to send them off to war.

So I ask again, Holy One, oh, Holy One...

What did I do to deserve this?

Comments

[bookblather]

Toddlers are all monsters, o Archangel, just get used to it.

Also, possibly they are both monsters and perfect goodness at once? That's, well, very human... I have a book for you. Anyway. This is lovely, and heartbreaking.

[shadowsong26]

Thank you!

Yeah, that's more or less what the Archangel would hope, if said hope could be articulated properly...maybe not so much both twins are monsters/perfect goodness all at once per se, but that they can somehow rise above their Destinies.