The gates of Heaven were nothing like the grand myths mortals imagined. They weren't walls of gold or towering spires reaching into infinity. No, they were something far more intimidating, a threshold of shimmering light, both inviting and unyielding, stretching endlessly into the clouds. Beyond it lay perfection, or so the stories went.
On this day, however, the gates were silent. Not a single angel moved in the misty expanse, the only sound was the soft hum of celestial energy, as if it were part of the very air itself.. Then, the light flickered, just once.
A figure emerged from the void, cloaked in shadows that swirled and shifted as though alive. They cradled a small bundle in their arms, their steps hesitant but deliberate. Each footfall seemed to weigh them down, as if the very act of crossing into this sacred space was a crime.
The figure knelt before the gates, their hands trembling as they placed the bundle on the soft, luminous clouds. For a moment, they simply stared, their hood shielding their face from view. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, they spoke.
"I'm sorry... but there's no other way."
The bundle stirred, a faint light glowing through the folds of the fabric. The figure flinched, stepping back as if the child's presence burned them. They glanced up at the gates, their expression obscured, before disappearing into the void without another word.
Silence returned, but not for long.
From high above, wings cut through the air with a sound like rushing wind. Archangel Seriel descended, his silhouette sharp against the blinding light of Heaven's heights. Unlike the serene angels who patrolled the lower realms, Seriel carried the weight of authority and secrets. His golden eyes swept across the gates, narrowing when they landed on the bundle.
"What... is this?" he murmured, kneeling.
He reached out cautiously, peeling back the cloth. The child looked no older than a few days, their tiny hands clutching at the air, their eyes shut tight. But even in their innocence, Seriel felt it, a pulse of energy that shouldn't exist. Angelic purity radiated from one side of their tiny form, while the other pulsed with something darker, chaotic.
"A half-breed," Seriel whispered, his voice hollow. He had seen abominations before, but nothing like this. Nothing that lived.
"Seriel!" A voice called from above. Another angel was descending, their wings catching the light like molten silver. Seriel stiffened, his instincts kicking in. Without thinking, he wrapped the child tightly in the bundle and stood.
"What's wrong?" the other angel asked, landing beside him.
"Nothing," Seriel said quickly, his expression calm despite the storm in his chest. "Just a stray flicker of energy near the gates."
The other angel frowned but said nothing, taking off again toward the skies. Seriel lingered, his mind racing. He should report this. He had to report this. But something about the child made him hesitate.
They opened their eyes then, two impossibly bright orbs, one glowing with silver light and the other burning a deep, demonic crimson. The sight made Seriel's breath catch.
He stared at the child for what felt like an eternity before finally whispering, "You shouldn't exist. But I can't let them destroy you."
With that, he spread his wings and soared upward, carrying the child to the highest floor of Heaven. A place even most angels feared to tread.
The highest floor of Heaven was not a realm of golden spires or shining palaces as one might imagine. It was something far more enigmatic, a place where time itself seemed to stretch and distort. The air here was thick with ethereal light, but the light was soft, like the glow of stars in the quietest of nights. This was a realm untouched by the chaos of lower levels, a realm of perfect serenity.
Above all, there were no clouds, no vast oceans of heavenly light. Instead, the sky was a tapestry of endless constellations—each star suspended like a frozen memory, shining with an almost tangible quiet. The land itself was a smooth expanse of soft, white stone, stretching as far as the eye could see, with delicate crystal formations rising from the ground in patterns both beautiful and alien. These crystals pulsed gently, their glow rhythmically syncing with the heartbeat of the realm.
At the heart of this mysterious world stood an ancient tree, its trunk was made of silver bark, its leaves shimmering like translucent wings, glowing with the same energy that enveloped the realm. Beneath its branches, the air was still, untouched by any storm, and the scent of jasmine and myrrh lingered on the breeze.
This was the Forest of the Celestial Realm, a place known only to a select few the highest of angels, and now, the child.
Seriel stepped into the clearing with the child cradled in his arms, the soft light from the trees flickering across his face. His wings were heavy, his heart weighed down by an unknown burden. He had come to the edge of the forest many times before, but this time, he was carrying something that did not belong here.
As he moved deeper into the forest, the trees seemed to bow, their crystal leaves whispering softly in a language only the angels could understand. The ground was soft beneath his feet, like walking on a layer of cloud, and the silence was overwhelming, a silence that carried the weight of untold secrets.
He reached a small grove at the heart of the forest, where a small, glowing pool of water reflected the stars above. The pool was said to be the source of the forest's life, and Seriel had come to understand its significance only too well. He paused at its edge, gazing down at the child in his arms.
"Here, you will be safe," Seriel whispered, kneeling beside the pool. He gently laid the child on a soft bed of moss at the water's edge, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision.
He gazed down at the child's features, still untouched by time, innocent and unknowing. The child was a being of contradiction, of light and shadow, and Seriel knew that they could never be allowed to grow up among the other angels. Heaven would not accept them.
He reached into the folds of his cloak, pulling out a small crystal pendant, its glow soft and soothing. He placed it gently around the child's neck. "This will protect you. Until I return."
With a final, lingering look, Seriel stood, his wings rustling softly behind him. The air seemed to shift around him as he turned away, knowing full well that his actions would be watched by the celestial authorities. They would want answers. But for now, all he could offer this child was a small fragment of peace.
"Do not forget, little one," Seriel whispered, as he began to walk away, his footsteps silent on the moss. "You are not alone."
As he walked deeper into the forest, the trees seemed to open a path for him, their branches parting like a gate, making him go back toward the heart of Heaven.