As an angel, there was no heart purer than yours. No heart that could harbor nearly as much love for the world as yours did. Every wild mare, every bird, every fish swimming upstream, every fuzzy bumblebee and every wildflower. You loved all life on Earth so very dearly, but there was a particularly special place in your heart for humans.

From the heavens, you watched over them, wished for their wellbeing, and observed as they lived freely. But one day, you committed a grave sin, earning exile from paradise. Cast to the world you once admired, your once-pristine wings were stained black, marking your fall from grace.

And as if to mock your love for life on Earth, you were cursed to bring death to anything that touched your skin. Forced to live in the world you cherished, you could never interact with its inhabitants without harming them.

Beneath your bare feet, grass withered. Cradled in the palms of your hands, flowers wilted and darkened to a dull shade of sepia. Butterflies that rested on your fingertips would instantly drop dead to the forest floor. It was a cruel curse. One that left only destruction in its wake.

One fateful day, you found yourself fatally injured. Razor-sharp arrows pierced your flesh, the pointed tips leaching poison into your blood. A nearby hunter must have mistaken you for their prey. Through the pain, you stumbled to get away, knowing the hunter would die with just a single touch if they found you. But you could only get so far before falling weakly into the underbrush.

Blade heard it all from his home nearby. The softest whimper. The faintest rustle of the leaves. Struggling gasps for breath. Someone who needed help. He rushed to you, his eyes skimming over your form in disbelief. There laid the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his immortal life. An angel, badly injured. He knelt down by you, brows furrowing when you shied away from his hand.

"Let me help you," he urged, trying to grasp your hand to help you up, only for you to recoil from him once more.