Disclaimer: I own all in this, so no stealing, thank you very much.
If anyone had looked closely at the tour group, they would see a
young man amongst the middle aged tourists and débutante's. He is not
overly tall, and fair of hair and eyes, like sunlight and ocean water at
it's calmest. His clothing is the same as any other teenager in the city,
worn blue jeans and ragged sneakers, an over sized shirt and a bulky boat
over it all. His demeanor, however, was quite the opposite.
He walked through the museum, paying attention to every word that the
guide said as if soaking it up like a sponge, or hungry for it. His eyes
were wide and open, looking around like he had never seen a place such as
the museum, but he treated it all with a kind of respect and grace that
none of the twittering tourists had.
" This is the room where some of our most mysterious, and most
beautiful, pieces are kept." Said the tour guide, a new woman, young and
attractive, but she knew her stuff better than some of the people that had
been there near half her own life, so the company had hired her.
She walked near backwards, keeping one eye on her group and the other
on the room, bringing up the information of the works in here in her mind.
There were many paintings done by artists long dead, most of whom didn't
have seemed to have left their name with anyone. A few odd pieces of
pottery that looked like it was thrown and painted by a child, and even a
mirror that was rumored to have belonged to Mary, Queen of Scots, with a
mythical ghost of a bloodstain up in the left corner.
All of this seemed to amuse the boy, for he now had a small smile on
his lips that was strangely tilted. Then they came to the last, and the
most beautiful, of the works in the room.
" The Angel is what we call her." Said the guide, drawing abreast of
the white sculpture. " No one knows who carved her or when, not even the
person that donated her to us. The donor said that she cries every once in
a while, but we have never seen tears from her, so she's not one of those
The group laughed as it was supposed to and moved on. All but the
boy. He remained by the statue, looking at it with a sad expression in his
eyes. The statue was a beauty, it was true. The woman was indeed an angel,
marble white wings stretching out from behind her as if she had landed
crouched as she was, one knee tucked under her while the other hung off the
side of the square pedestal that she was on. One arm steadied herself on
the block while the other stretched out with her palm up, as if reaching
for someone to pull her up. Her face was slightly turned up like she was
looking up at someone, and that brought her face into full light.
Her face was oval with a slightly triangular chin, giving her a look
of soulful impishness with her large eyes and pert nose. Her hair drifted
down her shoulders and front like a waterfall of silk, the artisan that
created her must have worked so very hard, because if she had been colored,
you would have expected her to breathe and blink and move.
The boy was enthralled, stepping towards her as if in a trance, his
lips moving but no sound was coming out of them. It was like he was
praying, worshiping this beauty in front of him. He reached out his hand to
touch hers, covering the milky stone fingers with his own and it was like a
great burden had been lifted off him. He stood up taller, his shoulders no
longer hunched in, his step was surer and lighter. He looked around quickly
and then stooped to touch her face, his hand tender and loving as if it
were a real person.
He dipped his head to look into her eyes, and he sighed as he bent
down a little more and touched his lips to hers. He pulled back like
something was supposed to happen, like Sleeping Beauty and her prince, but
" Another dupe, I knew it." He whispered to himself, straightening
himself up but not taking his hand away. Tears poured down his cheeks as he
bent down again, looking for something that he might have missed, even
though he appeared that he didn't know what it was.
His tears fell upon the pedestal, and the angel's face, and it was
like the world had taken a breath. He did not let go of her, even though
something was apparently happening to the statue. It was taking on color,
somehow becoming not marble, but flesh and blood and cloth and feathers.
Her skin became a light pink, the color of peaches in the apex of summer,
her hair taking on the darkness in the room until it had taken all the
shadows and twined them about every individual strand of her hair. Her eyes
became as grey as the clouds outside, and she took a breath.
" Who is it that has awakened me?" She asks, her voice sweet enough
to make even the hardest killer weep to hear.
The boy finally takes a step back and rids himself of his coat. From
under it burst two soft and snow white wings as the girl has. Her eyes
light up and she slowly smiles. " Ian, you have come back for me after all
He reaches out to her and takes her hand, helping her off her
pedestal and letting her lean on him to get used to standing after all the
years of sitting on a block of cold stone. " Always and forever, my lovely
Thera." He says, his blue eyes brimming with love at the girl holding so
tightly onto him.
Thera looks around as if searching for something herself, and then
her eyes alight on something, obviously having found what she wanted. "
Alver, it is your turn now, as was decreed."
I stepped out of the shadows that were still left, bowing to the both
of them. I nodded and shed my security uniform, my tunic of old appearing
on my body as the human clothes were shed. For the littlest of moments, I
let myself bathe in their love, not knowing how long it was going to be
until my own love found me and released me from the stone prison that I was
" Alver, if I find Tourmaline, I will send word to her, I promise
you." She smiled once at me and they disappeared as I blinked.
I sat on the block of stone as it became rougher and turned to a
granite grey as I knew I would. Thera was white marble, innocent and
wrongly accused of something that had caused her imprisonment, but me, I
was truly a transgressor of the law. It's been so long that I've had to
guard Thera until Alver came that I do not remember what I did, but I can
feel by the weigh on my soul that it was something terrible and
My wings settled themselves into a rather comfortable position, one
crossing over my chest to keep it warm and to keep the tourists from seeing
the scars that are there, the other slightly up and out as if reaching up
to touch someone much taller than I. I pulled one of my legs up and wrapped
my arms around my knee, letting my hands rest atop one another at my ankle.
My head was slightly bent so that I looked at both the wall and the floor
at the same time, and a small part of my bangs brushed over my eye in the
charming gesture that Tourmaline loved so much.
I smiled, a sad smile as I thought of her and the magic that had
released Thera descended on my, freezing me in place and turning me to grey
stone. I knew that I would still be called the Angel, the statue always
was, but I did not know who was to come and guard me. I would not know
either, until Tourmaline came and saved me, because the stone took my mind
and my body away from me, leaving me truly a statue.