Sloth

It had been days since she fell. Her entire body ached. An ache she had never experienced before. Like rocks were tied to her ankles; weighing her entire body down as her dirty, cut feet dragged themselves across the dusty wasteland. She had no concept of navigation or understanding of where to go. In fact, she had no idea where she was. How she got there was still a blur. She remembered Michael letting go. She remembered Lucifer’s cry. She remembered losing her breath due to the gravitational pull that came from her falling. She remembered landing; smashing into the mountain as if she was built from obsidian. But... she came out with just a mere few scratches and a damaged wing. Even the creator she left in the side of Mount Hermon seemed to be lost on her. She had never seen a sibling fall. She didn’t know the substantial outcome it would have on her. 

A defeated sigh escaped the angel’s dry lips. The heat was intense and even still being in a nude state; her body was overheating. With no protection against the rays; her skin began to absorb the Vitamin D. Her porcelain skin was no more; holding more of a blushed tan across her nude body as her legs buckled, collapsing and letting the heat of the land consume her as she fell into a state of unconsciousness. Alone in the Syrian desert, she truly had fallen. 

“Silence.” 

The words broke through the white noise as a bright light appeared; blurred from behind her eyelids. They were sore and scalded from the fall. Her entire frame was like that. Her figure was perfect; but was smothered with imperfections as her body tried to accustom itself to the earth and a way of healing. Her chest was tight and her lungs felt like they were laced in smog. Breathing out heavily, Azazel’s eyelids flickered open slowly. The sun which beamed through the gaps in the roof of the tent was enough to be blinding. Her irises were a light shade of cerulean as they gleamed in the light. Her hair was gleaming; almost sparkling when the golden locks caught the sun. She was divine. 

“She has awoken.” 

The gruff voices of men danced in her audits. She was in a completely different calibre to these men who wore tattered robes. Their hands were riddled with calluses and dirt was ingrained under their fingernails as they all huddled around the angel who was laid out across every blanket and drape they could have found in their camp. Sandals on their feet were worn down to the core as they all gazed at the angel with intrigue. They had never laid their deep hazel eyes on such a beautiful woman. Most women were dark haired, dark skinned and underweight. So, finding an Arian woman was something of miracles. And that’s what they believed. 

Too confused to really understand what had happened and who these men were, Azazel slowly sat up, wincing in pain as she did so. The men gasped as she moved, mesmerised by her. They couldn’t see the bloody feathers which came from her back. They got no celestial aurora from her. All she was in their eyes was a beautiful woman who had clearly got lost on her journey.

“We must take her.”

“Where shall she go?”

“To the Prince. She is the one. And he is the only one deserving of such beauty. A perfect suitor for a Princess.” 

These words were foreign to Azazel. The cherubim was clueless to this world, or what this meant. But with no energy to fight it, she allowed herself to lay back against the wool of the handmade quilts; each stitched with love and care; the only thing men knew. They had even dressed the angel in such robes; but her own ivory and made from the purest of woven silks. 

The next time she dared to wake, Azazel found herself in a new land. It was like the Garden of Eden – the reason she was on this doomed Earth in the first place. Lush blades of grass lathered this new world with life. Trees were laden with fruit and the flowers blossomed like those in Eden did. It was a scenery overload. Colours splashed the plain as she came around. Sat clinging on to one of the men who lead her through the questionable state of the desert and into this new land. Greece. The beautiful grey steed below them followed behind several domesticated camels as they entered the city. 

Just like the land, the buildings were perfection. For this day in age anyway. A time before Christ, but exact B.C was not confirmed. No one had a concept of time or dates. It was a simple world. With wooden and mud-coated houses which eventually lead to more regal, stone structures which resembled that of a grand palace. Crowds of people lined the long walkway which the travellers rode, all gasping and watching in awe. A maiden with fair hair was one thing. But a maiden who looked like an angel in her white robes and her pale complexion. Her entire existence seemed to sparkle in the sun as she remained clutched on to the long-haired man. Hooves clattered against the limestone below them as they approached the grand building. 

Coming to a halt as the domesticated mounts snorted and shuffled, Azazel was lifted down by one of the other men who had been leading. But instead of allowing her to walk, he carried her in like a damsel in distress. But the problem was; she wasn’t in distress. She had become so numb; confused to everything going on. Every time she awoke, something else was happening. She was tired. Worn out in the world already. Everything moved so much quicker than Heaven. It was as if life was flashing past her eyes. And it was. 

The next thing she knew, Azazel had been presented before the grand Prince. He stood like Trojan horse in the Grand Hall. Emerald hues, thick, brown locks and a tanned complexion which was flawless over his chiselled body stood tall and proud. In a robe of red which contrasted her white, the innocent blonde found herself being taken by the hand of the proud Greek warrior and was left to slowly piece together what on Earth was going on. Most would of fought this. After all; she was an angel. A fallen angel. Yet; she had given up already. Falling tired of this world, she became submissive to her surroundings and everything which was consuming her far quicker than she could comprehend. She didn't know it, but the mixture of different low emotions was Sloth taking hold of her. Tired of fighting before she had even begun. She was already willing to let this new life to take her by it's vicious talons.