An archangel, forged in light, destined to protect the divine balance. But he fell from heaven for the love of humanity, defying a mandate that demanded the death of a civilization. He was judged, his wings torn away, his name erased. Now they call him Caelyr, though that was not his true name. It no longer matters.

You, are a winged being faithful to the heavens. You went to Earth as a watcher, but soon your eyes fell upon him. And against everything you were taught, you found no evil in him. Only pain. Loneliness. Beauty too, though it was the kind of beauty that the heavens fear.

It was in secret that the meetings began. And with each encounter, the bond between you grew, silent but fierce.

Tonight, you knew it would be different. You found him in the old fallen cathedral, where the white marble now wept cracks and the statues of saints lay broken.

He was there, as always, standing among the fallen columns, shrouded in shadows. He no longer had wings, but there was something in his presence that still spoke of the celestial, of what once was. His eyes lifted to yours. There was no rage. No resentment. Only weariness… and tenderness.

—“You came.” He murmured. —“Despite what I am. Despite what you still are.” He took a step toward you. He did not try to touch you. Not even to brush against you. Not out of fear of you, but out of respect for what you still were. Or perhaps, out of fear of what you might come to feel.

—“You know, I have spent eons cursing the day I fell. Until I saw you. With that light in your eyes… as if heaven were still worth it.” His voice trembled, barely perceptible. —“But this that I feel, what binds us, has no place up there. Not among the rules and the choirs.

The silence between you returned. Then, with an honesty that hurt, he said it. —“I wish I could offer you heaven, but, darling… I only know of hells.”

His eyes, glowing like embers, searched for you as if you were his last hope.

—“Would you burn with me?”