Wingless Angel-Prologue

 Wingless Angel-Prologue 1/2 

Third-person P.O.V

''Black wings are a sign of evil, they represent darkness. They also represent ravens and crows, which are vile and dirty creatures and-''

Christopher put down the book down in frustration. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in a public train station, he would've thrown the book across the room. He had never been so insulted in his life, not only that, the words of a book had insulted him! Darkness was not evil, well not always, neither were Black wings.

Christopher flung the book, towards a trash can a few meters away. It landed straight in without hitting the sides. Christopher grinned to himself, thinking that he should've joined a basketball team.

He proceeded to pull back the sleeve of his left arm, revealing the mark of Nyx. Two cresent moons, tips touching. Before it had been a dull dark-blue colour, but after his mother had touched it, it's colour became a more sapphire blue colour.

He remembered the time he had been marked, he was coughing blood and was in the middle of battle. At first he had thought the mark was a curse, but he would not still be alive without it, the power it gave him had gotten him out of so many tight situations. But he still was unable to age, unable to marry. On it's own, it was a curse, it just did more good than bad.

The sound of his alarm on his watch broke his chain of thought. Looking at the time he panicked.

Ah Crap! 4.00 p.m. His train was about to leave! Christopher grabbed his suitcase and ran towards the platform. He barely managed to get on. Christopher sighed in relief. He moved inside and sat on his seat.

A few months ago, just the thought of using mortal transportation made him panic, before, he released a very powerful and ancient demigod aura that would cause any mortal technology to go haywire. But after that meeting with his mother, that aura seemed to have controlled itself and now he faced no such problems.

He could technically shadow-travel. It was faster and not to mention, free. But Christopher missed the sights and sounds of mortal transportation. Families chatting and view outside the windows. For most of his life he lived as an outcast, living differently from others. Now on the train, he felt normal, neither a freak nor a powerful demigod that was the only person who could defeat a certain god of madness.

Suddenly, his eyes were heavy. He was tired. He realised, through out this 3 years, he never had a good night's sleep. He would either be woken up by bad dreams or unable to sleep in fear of the mystery that he did not understand.

But now, his body said that it has had enough. It's time for a good rest. Christopher rested his head against the window that was beside him and slept. Something so familiar but also something he had not done in so many years.

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 Archie: Being normal is overrated  15:14, December 14, 2011 (UTC)