Reunion  

How long had it been? Rosette was quite sure she could not say. It pained her to admit that she had grown accustomed to the hollow ache that had settled itself between her ribs. The usual human forms of coping hadn’t helped her at all – in fact, it had done little more than distress her daughter.

Her daughter. It had to have been years since she’d last seen her – it was simply too painful to see parts of her husband’s handsome features reflected in the face of their only child.

So, she had left her daughter behind, allowing her grief to give way to anger – fierce and red-hot, burning like hellfire within her chest. It was an all-consuming rage that she vented upon whoever was unfortunate enough to cross her path – angel, human and demon alike. None were safe from the brunt of Rosette’s righteous fury.

 And as always, Heaven sat silently, impassively watching the proceedings with calm detachment – uncaring as a demon cried up at the skies, asking the same questions again and again.

Why? Why? Why?

She screamed, cried and cursed the Father’s name and still yet there was nothing. Nothing but the tears streaking across her face, the hollowness within her heart and the blood that stained her hands.

-

It was during one of the rare times where she took on a human form. Her normally neatly brushed snow-white hair was matted with dirt and had grown to reach her lower back in the time she’d left it unattended. 

She sat solemnly amongst the remnants of a village that had recently fallen victim to her ongoing rampage – the sun had just begun to rise, its warm glow reaching slowly toward her from across the horizon. The light reached the tips of her outstretched legs and it burned. 

In a panic, she skittered backwards into the swiftly retreating darkness – eyes frantically searching for an explanation.

Then, the sky began to glow.

 From above the clouds descended a host of angels, clad in intricate golden armour, weapons raised as they swoop down upon her, intent on cutting down the horror they had unknowingly helped create.

She spread her own wings and pushed off the ground, mounting her own attack upon the advancing forces. It was odd, she mused, as she tore through Heaven’s soldiers as if they were paper – why had Heaven sent its weakest forces to face her? Surely, they must have known that such low-ranking angels would be no match against her?

As the last of the front lines were felled by her hand, she felt herself being pushed back by a powerful burst of holy energy. The earth quakes as a piercing golden light descends from above, crashing into the earth with a thunderous boom.

3 pairs of luminous white, gold-flecked wings extend, raising a figure from the newly formed crater that Rosette couldn’t help but recognise. Surely, without a doubt, that was Dominick – her husband. He looked almost exactly the same as the day she last saw him – certainly the wings were new, and he’d grown his hair out (like she’d been asking him to do for years) but that was him, without a doubt.

The thought that this was some cruel trick from Heaven never once crossed her mind as she raced toward him, arms and wings outstretched intent on pulling him into a long overdue embrace.

Her arms had barely wrapped around his neck before she was crying. “Dominick! What happened where have you-“ She is prevented from finishing her line of questioning and she is roughly shoved away from him, falling painfully back onto the fractured earth.

“Dominick?” she asks, looking into his familiar emerald-green eyes, searching for an explanation.

“What are you playing at?” He asks, his voice lower and more threatening than she’d ever heard it. A hand rests deliberately on the hilt of his great-sword which had began glowing with angelic power.

“Speak!” he demands, after but a few moments of silence.

“Dominick? It’s me, Rosette!” she replies, picking herself up from the ground and dusting off her clothes. “Y-your wife?” she prompts hesitantly, holding up the hand on which her wedding ring was still proudly on display.

His sword is drawn, then, in a flash of light that was intensely painful to look at. He advances upon her, matching her step for step as she slowly backs away from the being in front of her.

“My wife?” he questions, sarcastically – his voice tinged with malice and disgust. “Don’t even try to play your games with me, creature. I am an angel of the Lord, what reason could I possibly have to consort with one of your kind?” even those words seem to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

He lifts the sword, pointing it at her throat as he charges at her. He stops on a dime, pausing just as the blade begins to draw blood. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” a cruel smile flashes across his features as he speaks. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not lying!” she insists, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. “Why would I lie to you Dominick? You’re my husband, I love you!” the last words are sobbed as the blade begins to press more firmly against her skin.

“I am no such thing!” he cries in utter outrage, as he lifts the sword from her throat, lifting it above his head, swiftly bringing it down. Rosette barely dodges out of the way and looks up at him in horror.

“Dominick, please…”  she whispers a final plea as she dodges yet another swing of his sword. “Please, don’t make me hurt you!”

The angel seemed to hear none of it, however, as he took to the skies, silently daring her to face him in his element. 

It is with grim resignation that Rosette realises the now-angel will not be reasoned with, at least not yet. If she could buy time, exhaust him, perhaps then he would be willing to listen to her.

Her own wings beat vigorously as she lifts herself into the air, shifting seamlessly into her true demonic form. Thorns begin to sprout from her skin and her red-tipped wings extend to their full impressive size. She conjures a blade of her own, weighing it in her hand.

“If you’re not my husband, then who are you, angel?” She questions, extending her own weapon, a rapier, toward him. If he wanted to face a demon, then she would be happy to provide the suitable amount of dramatics, anything that would buy her time to properly formulate a plan.

“My name is Dominion. I am an angel of the Lord and you, creature, are a foul aberration that I will purge from this earth.”

Dramatics, indeed.

His sword is raised once more, and the pair clash in mid-air, the air silent save for the sound of steel meeting steel.

Rosette’s strikes were fast, precise, aiming for the places she knew an angel was weakest, while Dominion relied mainly on his angelic strength to overwhelm her, striking indiscriminately at her when the opportunity arose. Their clash seemed to continue for hours – until both were panting, bloodied and bruised from the exertions.

Liquid gold languidly ran down the tip of Rosette’s blade – her clothes, too, were stained with it along with her own deep crimson blood. Her breath came in short ragged bursts and she winced at the pain that bloomed across her ribs whenever she breathed.

Dominion was in no better state. Any exposed parts of his body are covered in scratches and bruises and a particularly nasty gash was splayed across his face, rendering him unable to use his left eye.

Yet they pressed on, meeting each-other blow for blow – but whereas Rosette tried to be merciful, Dominion had no such intention and the flurry with which he swung at her was swiftly tiring him out, his movements sluggish whether from exhaustion or the weight of his injuries or both she wasn’t sure,  but soon she would have the perfect opportunity to strike and they would be able to talk, whether the angel wanted to or not.

Her golden opportunity came sooner than she anticipated, however, as with one final overhead swing, the last of his energy seemed to be depleted. His wings ceased their steady beating and his blade fell from his grasp as he, too, began to plummet towards the earth.

Rosette discards her own blade, dives down and catches him, holding him gently in her arms as she gently lays the angel down upon the ground. She waves a hand over his prone form and in an instant, he is restrained by the vines that sprout from the ground at Rosette’s command.

This was done not a moment too soon, as within seconds he had returned to consciousness and was writhing against her bonds with all the strength he could muster, which at this point wasn’t very much.

“Dominick…” she starts, before she is cut off my an insistent grumble from the restrained angel.

“Dominion” he corrects, staring her down with utter malice. “My name is Dominion.”

She sighs deeply, moving the hair from her face as she shifts back to a more human form. “Dominion, then. Are you ready to listen to me?” she asks, already anticipating the answer.

“Why would I listen to one of your kind?” he spits. “You’re all inherently evil – deceivers! Already, you’ve tried to convince me that you love me, when I know perfectly well that your kind are incapable of loving. Pathetic.”

Rosette pauses for a moment, taken aback. “Is that what they’ve taught you? Dominick, my darling, you must know that that’s not the truth.”

“Dominion”  he huffs, before continuing. “I know only that which my Father has taught me.”

Rosette is unable to resist sending her fiercest glare up toward the heavens, muttering more than a few choice curses to His name under her breath.

“It makes me wonder, Dominion, what other tall tales our Father have told you.”

This gives the angel pause. “Our Father? How dare you call Him your Father, after what you’ve done?”

“And what exactly did I do, pray tell?”

“I…” the angel trails off, pausing. “I was never told. None of us were.”

“Of course.” she replies, clipped. Taking a deep, steadying breath that - contrary to her expectations, does exactly nothing to calm her, she places a shaking hand against his bruised cheek. “Before I lost you, I asked you to stay with me, at the expense of your own peace. Do you remember that?”

“No.” he replies, half-heartedly attempting to move away from the demon’s gentle caress of his cheek – before realising that he didn’t particularly  want to – her touch, for whatever reason made him feel secure. Safe. For a moment, he leans into her touch before coming back to himself and violently moving away from her touch as if it burned. “What are you trying to do, demon?”

“I’m trying to make you understand.” She implores, moving her hand down to his torso, placing it on his armoured chest. She focuses for a moment and pours all her love into this single touch – hoping, praying, that it would finally make him see.

Underneath her, the angel shudders before looking up at her in confusion. “But we were told…” he trails off, before his expression hardens. “This is another trick, it must be.”

A defeated sigh leaves her lips and Rosette removes her hand from his torso, gently cradling it close to her own heart. With a thought, the restrains are gone – Dominion rising to his feet as soon as he was able, although Rosette couldn’t help but notice the way his legs shook with the effort of keeping him standing.

“Believe what you will, then” She mumbles, defeat and exhaustion she hadn’t let herself resign to creeping into her tone. She rises to her own feet, glancing imploringly up at him. “I do love you, despite what you may think.”

Dominion, in lieu of a reply, glares hatefully back her – snapping his fingers and disappearing in a flash of light – likely returning to Heaven to lick his wounds.

The light fades and Rosette is alone again - and for the umpteenth time across the past few months, she lets herself dissolve into sobs.