The Fallen

She pushed herself up out of the mud, wondering how she'd come to be lying in the mud in a forest during the darkest hours of night.

The ground was damp, the mud only on the very surface. From the smell of it, the rain had been very recent. She looked up but couldn't see any stars. The clouds hid them well. The wind blew her hair into her face and made whispering sounds through the unseen tree branches. She thought she should be comforted by those sounds, but instead she found it caused a shiver deep inside her.

That was all she could tell about where she was.

She was wearing a long, cobalt blue gown, made of silk and satin. It was very light, and she could feel the breeze on her skin underneath it. On her back she had a dark cloak which cleverly concealed her two sets of wings. She must have been trying to hide that she was an angel, she thought as she started walking through the woods. The moldering leaves crunched and rustled as she stepped through them. She had no idea where she was going, just that she should get somewhere.

Why would… She stopped walking as she tried to remember the name of the god she served. Why would she send her here? And who was he? Why couldn't she remember?

She slumped against a tree. A great mass of grief and fear rose into her throat and filled her head. What was going on? She didn't think she had ever felt so helpless. The feeling was almost a tangible thing. She clenched her teeth and crushed her eyelids shut, willing herself not to cry. It would not do. A solitary tear emerged from her left eye, and slid halfway down her cheek, but no other tears.

She pushed away from the tree with one arm, holding herself steady.