Scribbled Scenes November #4: Scorched Feathers

As he spread his majestic wings, lights exploded above him. His wings were burning – or at least, he could smell scorched feathers. What was it with humans and their electric magic? If you touched it you die a painful death, and still it was everywhere. The whole world was lit up, it was in every room and every city. He shook his wings trying to get the fire to stop, and with a sizzling sound his wish was fulfilled. Except for the fact that the bright white of his feathers was now a bit brown at the edges, they still worked.

Play time was over. He needed to get back to work. He could feel the soul calling for him, it was time for him to leave earth. And it was time for Irizael help him.

As Irizael lifted the soul from the body he could feel the fragility of humanity. Humans were fragile but strong, they are determined to do whatever it takes. Softly he whispered, “come. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” and the soul responded in a way that resembles a living person’s sigh. It relaxed in his hands and he brought it up to a light so bright, no living human ever has ever seen.

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