Serathiel

Wrongfully banished from Heaven, Serathiel now struggles to get through each and every day, carried forward only by the small and wistful hope of returning one day. They know they have become a pitiful sight, but the tears never stop flowing.

• An angel of the Virtue class, they used to aid in the creation of celestial bodies and earthly elements, as well as granting wishes and miracles. Their favorite past time was creating shooting stars for mortals to wish upon.
• The scar on their chest and neck are a result of their falling. The one on their chest is from being directly striken down, while the one on their neck was to strip away their voice.
• Has a terrible habit of biting their nails, especially when distressed.
• The thorn ring on his finger is from his deal with Avarice, and digs in when stepping out of line.
• Serathiel's hobbies include singing, violin, painting, and poetry. Many of them have become outlets for his grief.
• They struggle with sleeplessness and night terrors nowadays, and medication is necessary for a decent night's sleep.
• Prefers tea over coffee, but coffee gives them a much needed energy boost.

In the beginning, Serathiel was an angel - loved by many, touched by His light. As a Virtue, their role was to aid in the control of elements and miracles for those on Earth. It truly was paradise - spending their days in the heights, one of His choir, each new day just as peaceful and fulfilling as the last. They could never have asked for anything more wonderful.

Until everything was stripped away from them in a whirlwind of horror and accusations. Framed by another for a crime they did not committ, Serathiel was given no room to plead their case or prove their innocence. In an instant, they were struck down, falling from Heaven and stripped of their divinity.

Oh, how it burned.

Everything in them ached so fiercely, scourned from all they had known. Not quite mortal, yet not quite as angelic as they used to be, Serathiel was so hopelessly lost. His time on Earth did not come any easier. He was left without a home, without food or money, and a broken voice. What cruelty was this? Why had God done this to him?

Serathiel struggled through the months, trying to find a place to belong to. Some were kind to them. Many were not. It was horrible, yet still, they carried forward. They had to. No matter what, they clung to the belief that something would right this wrong, that they would be welcomed home one day. They had to believe it. There was nothing else left.

During this time is when they found him. Seeking shelter from an oncoming storm, there was a church that called Serathiel forth. It felt warm; it felt like home. As they cried and prayed for salvation once more, a priest approached them. He was a kind man who spoke to them so gently. Even if he felt... off, they trusted him. They needed someone to trust. Besides, he was a priest and willing to aid them in every way they needed.

A foolish mistake, once again. Desperation clouded their judgement, and unknowingly, they were now a lamb led to slaughter. They did not realize until it was far too late. Until the bindings of a dark contract constricted their heart, and that the priest was a demon who had just tricked them into a deal.

No matter how hard they tried, there was no escape from it. There would be no return to Heaven, now. Instead, they became wrapped up in Avarice's scheme of extorting his congregation, and Serathiel was a perfect addition. A small payment in exchange for a miracle. Small wishes and fortunes, all granted by their hands. As much as they detested the situation, there was also a craving for it. To be granted so much attention and praise, to be seen as a savior. It was a terribly addicting feeling. Perhaps he would find his divinity again through other means, hand in hand with Avarice.