I never imagined my light would ever be tainted by shadow. I lived for the light, for the songs of creation that resonated in every sunrise. Seraphiel was my name, and my life was filled with joy and love.
Until I met him.
Until I believed his lies.
It was a night like any other in the celestial realm, I was serving my duties of guarding the gate. The stars were scattered across the heavens like sparks of divine promises, lighting up the glittering blue sky.
He came from the Abyss, his black wings cutting into the sky, leaving a trail of grey ash through his path. He was bold and foolish for breaking the rules and approaching the gates. My hands gripped my blade, ready to strike. Yet, as he approached me, I saw no sign of fire in his eyes, but something else.
Calmness and curiosity.
“You’re a long way from home, demon,” I called out, my voice sharp, though my heart was unsteady.
I should have sent him back with a warning or a scar, but as he spoke to me, his words lured me into a world that I had no business entering. I let him stay and that night I learned his name, Vorneth. His humor amused me, his daring eyes sparked with reckless fire, and his smile, that damn smile that made my heart forget how to beat.
We meet for months in secret, our connection growing with every stolen moment. He would hoover at the edge of my realm, never crossing the line but pushing its boundaries. We spoke of our worlds, our duties, our likes and dislikes.
I teased him for his arrogance, and he joked about my sense of duty. He spoke of a life where light and shadow collided, but deep down I knew that it was forbidden. I knew that if the council found out about us then I would be severely punished and there would be no mercy.
Yet, I believed him. Foolishly I believed him.
I knew that loving him felt like flying too close to the sun, knowing it would burn me but unable to resist its pull. And the betrayal burned the most, especially as it came out from the council and not his own lips. That night, they gave me one final warning to stay away, but I wanted to know the truth, so I disobeyed.
Vorneth had given away our secret, not for the good of us, but for his desires. He had struck a deal with the Lords of the Abyss, offering them the knowledge of my world, of my light, in exchange for power.
Selfish.
I stayed quiet, waiting for him to approach me. I was dry and quiet with him, hinting that something was off. Then when he asked me what was wrong, I confronted him.
I expected remorse, an explanation, anything to ease the knife that he had driven into my heart. Instead, he stood before me with that same crooked grin and cold, unfamiliar eyes, as if it was all a game to him.
“You were a means to an end. Nothing more,” is what he shouted at me. His words burned me more than any fire from the Abyss ever could.
That’s where I noticed that love born in the dark is built on lies.
“I should have never believed in your lies, I should have believed and obeyed the council’s orders when they first warned me,” I said, my voice steady now, with anger that sharpened into something unbreakable. “But I am done, done with the lies and jokes. You have failed to obtain the light inside of me.”
I left him in the shadows where he belonged, with no hope to look for him again or wonder what he was doing or where he was.
The council was merciful, though they should have not. They called me a fallen angel for my actions, but now I was a rising angel who kept her place among the angels.
Vorneth taught me a lesson, one that I will never forget: that not all shadows seek the light. And some love stories are better left in darkness.