The Fallen 1: The Fallen by Thomas E. Sniegoski

Author:Thomas E. Sniegoski [Thomas E. Sniegoski]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fantasy fiction, Contemporary, Fiction, General, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Supernatural, Family, Angels, Archangels, Religious, Orphans, Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology, Orphans & Foster Homes
ISBN: 9780689853050
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing
Published: 2003-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

A sword of fire grew in Verchiel’s hand. The larger particles of irradiated dust and dirt in the air sparked as they drifted into contact with the divine flame. Following his lead, his soldiers each manifested blazing weapons as well.

“And what has this idyllic vision brought you thus far?” asked the Powers’ leader. “You hide yourself away in the poisoned wastelands created by the animals, denying your true place in the order of things. Is this some kind of punishment, Byleth? Do you think that this half-breed prophet you imagine is coming will look upon you fondly because of it?” Verchiel said with disgust. “Pathetic.”

“This place and the poisoned land around it reminds us of what we were and what we have become,”

Byleth explained. “Once, we were filled with His holy virtue, on a mission to wipe away evil—but we were tainted by the violence and a self-righteousness that said we were acting in His name.”

“Everything I do, I do for Him,” Verchiel replied, his fiery blade burning brighter and radiating an intense heat.

“That is what you believe to be true,” Byleth said. “But there is another way—a way without death, a way that brings the end of our exile and the beginning of our redemption.” The angel held out his hand, directing Verchiel to look upon the altar. “Thisis the way, Verchiel.This is our future.”

Verchiel shook his head. “No, it is blasphemy.” He raised a hand to his soldiers behind him. “Remove them from the altar,” he commanded.

The Powers leaped into the air, their wings stirring choking clouds of fine, radioactive debris.

“We will fight you, Verchiel!” Byleth cried. A weapon of fire grew in his grip, and others blazed up in the hands of his fellow believers, yet they seemed pitiful by comparison to the swords of the Powers. Feeble wings grew from their backs.

“Look at you,” Verchiel said as he strode toward them and their sacred shrine. “Belief in this heresy has reduced you to mere shadows of your former glory. How sad.”

“Our past sins have made us thus,” Byleth bellowed in anger as he leaped at Verchiel, his sword held high.

But he was intercepted by the savagery of Verchiel’s elite guard and forced to the ground beneath their weight. Verchiel watched with great amusement as the priests were hauled away from their shrine.

“This is the future, you say?” he asked as he looked from them to the burning candles and crude artwork.

They struggled against their captors, but the Powers’ soldiers held them fast. “It won’t end with us,”

Byleth hissed. “That which has been foretold now walks among us.”

Verchiel looked to the altar, fiery indignation burning in his breast. “I see no future here,” he said as he flapped his powerful wings. The mighty gusts of air extinguished the candles and toppled the offensive painting. “All I see is the end.”

Verchiel grinned maliciously as he turned back to the priests, but his triumph quickly turned to confusion when he noted the serene looks upon their faces.

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