How Shy are Fate and Hope (Prologue Part 3)

      "Where do you come from, boy," she inquired. Her voice was low and soothing, still, I didn't answer. She raised her hands and patted her striped dress, showing herself clean, "see, I'm not dangerous. Now tell me. What is your name?"

      "Bhoru…" The words escaped from my mouth like a bird freeing itself from its cage, and shortly after I regretted it. There, under the lights, I was able to distinguish a pair of cuddly white wings growing from her back, and a golden halo glowing over her head. Of all the places I could enter, I had to end up in an angel's house.

      "I know what you're thinking," she cooed gently, "but don't allow me to worry you. Unlike many of my fellow angels, I like demons very much. After all, aren't we all made from the same energy?"

      I retreated timidly. No way an angel could be so nice; it had to be a trap, but she didn't move. She just waited patiently until I got accustomed to her presence.

      "Well I don't like your kind," I spouted haughtily.

      I thought she'd be furious, yet instead of frowning she threw me a smile free from malice, "why, Bhoru?"

      The question came as a shock to me. To tell you the truth, I had never thought about it, I just did.

      "Because you hate us," I quickly made up.

      "Then you like me!" She brightened, her halo glistening more vividly as she smiled.

      "I don't," I complained in a childish tone I admit.

      "But you said you despise my kind because we despise you. I don't hate you, so your reason is not valid with me" she explained, "thus, you must like me."

      "That doesn't make any sense." It did.

      "Of course it does!" She was right.

      "No" Yes.

      She laughed and stood up, "this is a clinic for orphan children. There are plenty of empty rooms so you can stay as long as you want."

      She was offering food and shelter. How could I refuse? That is how I came to live with an angel. After a short time much of her habits rubbed off on me. I became extremely clean and organized. I helped around the house, and I cared for the children. I was basically everything a demon wasn't.

      It was a cool Saturday, and Ztiera the angel and I had gone out to buy groceries. (Saturday morning was groceries day.) I was helping her choose the best tomatoes, like I always did, when we heard shouting. At the butcher's front door stood Monsieur Arnaud (the butcher's eldest son and current manager of the store) and a tall, slender man with coal black hair, frightening golden eyes, and a filet hanging from his mouth.

      "You can't just take that without paying," argued Monsieur Arnaud's deep, hoarse voice, while his flabby belly and his reddened cheeks bounced with agitation.

      The young man, however, completely ignored the calls and started to walk away. Before I noticed, Ztiera was blocking his way and standing her ground. A scowl quickly formed on the man's face and I quickly understood why.

      "I'm sorry, sir, but stealing is wrong. Would you mind paying the dear butcher for that?" She advised cheerfully, but the man tried to ignore her as well. Enraged, the young butcher man bellowed even louder. The tall robber, angered himself, swiftly turned around, pulled a long dagger from his jacket, and stabbed the fatty manager right in the heart. Blood flowed over his hand as life left Monsieur Arnaud's eyes, and shock filled Ztiera's.

      "Get out of my way, angel," he ordered sternly, placing derogative emphasis in the last word.

      "Why did you kill him," the confused angel moved her head from side to side, struggling to piece everything together.

      "Because I wanted to," he shrugged Ztiera off, clearly uninterested, if not annoyed, by the conversation.

      "But you didn't even have to steal; I'm sure a life born demon like you could easily hunt if you wanted meat"

      He turned his back to her, "I don't need to explain myself to an angel…but the closest forest is too far away and I'm hungry," he muttered to himself in between his teeth.

      I thought I saw a tinge of reproach forming in the corner of her mouth, but if I did, it was only during a second, for it was immediately replace by a face of deep sorrow; a face I'd never seen her wear before. Worried, I asked her if she was alright.

      The demon's scowl grew more prominent, "an angel and demon getting along, what a disgusting sight."

      Ztiera defended that we could all be friends, hugging me to prove her point. She explained how we were really similar, and that there was really no reason for so much hate.

      Still facing the other way, he grunted loudly, "taben."
      I faced my angel friend and saw a flow of tears running down her cheeks as her eyes were fixed in the leaving young man. To say the truth, I didn't expect to hear such a strong degrading insult, not even from a life-born.

      The incident was never spoken of again, though I had plenty of questions. If I brought it up, she'd change topic, looking slightly annoyed, so I decided it was best to drop it off.

      Day after day, I noticed myself acting more and more like Ztiera. One dark moonless night, a week later, I was sitting under the stars admiring their glow when I spotted light that wasn't coming from the stars. To my surprise, I identified a pair of tiny wings beaming behind me and a halo over my head. Just like that, and without any logical explanation, I had become an angel.