The Tempest [ Katarina - Kamijo ]
I long to hear the story of your life, which must captivate the ear strangely.
Bright blue day, unfiltered by the smog of more urbanized cityscapes, unable to escape the far-reaching clutch of the domineering sun. It existed as many a day does during the summer season, with scorching heat pressing down like a perfectly lethal metal poker to the skin. Stay in direct contact for too long, and it may leave the marks of such indiscretion upon you. That is, if you are of such molding to fold to such trivial blemishes. Angels hail from far brighter reaches than even the sun in the sky, and thus have no need to cower beneath the glare of it’s mighty light.
Still, this mighty lion was perched languidly within the shady branches of a large willow tree. Be it a fact that his hide was molded from the Creator’s hand itself, and thus far above all the puny figures walking around on feet down on this fool’s circus of a world, there was no desire at current to parade or promenade at current. The people, those lowly people, did not deserve to witness his beauty all the time. To bask in his glory so often, what a blessing it would be! Be it spite, respite, or mere want for a moment of solitude, the beast kept his undeniably vibrant presence up in the tree.
The tree itself was a magnificent specimen, very broad and tall in testament to how long it had sat there and been allowed the chance to grow. Centuries, perhaps, were embedded into each root that dug through the earth. Countless sunrises and sunsets had the branches witnessed, their limbs growing just enough every year to offer it a hope of someday reaching that distant sky. The unique way the Willow tree’s leaves grew downward, swishing in the wind, provided it with much more movement than the average tree specimen. Even the slightest breeze made it appear to dance languidly.
With such heavy coverage, the tree made a particularly ideal spot for reclusive angels to lounge. His blinding light of golden still pierced the cover of the branches to the outside world, but it dimmed it considerably. In fact, it would be difficult to spot the legendary beast of perfection unless one might wander beneath the tree and glanced upward at the branches above. Or, of course, if someone had dared to follow his trail when he made his way over.
There was a long and sturdy branch that was near enough to the ground to see movement, but far enough away to allow his enormous pristine white feathered wings to fall relaxed below him and still not touch the floor. His back was pushed up against the trunk of the tree, whilst his long and lean body stretched out along the branch, leisurely ending with his ankles crossed. Today was a day of simpler times, and thus he wore only a white silk poet’s shirt. The deep plunging neckline revealed so much of the chiseled chest that any fair maiden ought to blush at the sight. Black pants clothed his lower half, neatly pleated without a crease in sight.
When the wind picked up, casting small gusts of nature’s breath upon the body, it tickled at the loose curls of undeniably beautiful blond hair. It was as though the earth begged for his presence to indulge it with movement. Please, great beauty of another world, please give us the will to continue our endeavors! Bless the mother Earth with the thrill of your perfection, allow her to run her fingers through your lustrous locks!
The beast shifted, having heard the distinct shuffle of steps from down below. They were not very loud, but his hearing was very acute. Still, he bothered not to cast his gaze downward. Whoever it was, was not of enough importance for him to look. Perhaps if they attempted to call for his attention, he might spare a glance. For now, he simply crossed his ankles in the opposite direction and allowed his wings to stretch languidly. The eyes of the beast remained closed to the world, shut off to the sense of sight. The angel was not asleep, however the tempest within still slept, finding no reason to rouse.
It wasn’t a hidden fact that Katarina spoke to the trees and all the creatures of the forest. Being a wood elf most of her time was spent within the woods around the academy communing with nature and basking in the glory of its life. She trusted the forest with her entire being and likewise the tree’s offered her a strong sense of protection and warmth.
Strolling languidly through the woods the witch let her fingers graze over the various branches and new sprouts of life congratulating them for making it through the harsh winter of the Korea. She paused from her idle adoration when whispers of another being in their presence caught her attention and her curiosity was piqued. Other people visiting the forest wasn’t an odd thing after all the academy did have many students and creatures, but it was the way the branches whispered about this one.
‘Mysterious, radiant as the sun, Kin to the Maker.’
They spoke as if he were a god from the ancient times, and while Katarina didn’t necessarily understand everything being said, but as a believer in higher beings this was not something she would miss.
Through the trails she sprinted following the rustling leaves and whispering branches until she stopped deep in the forest before a very old willow tree. It was one of her favorite places to come when in need of deep thinking or a place to cast important spells. She regarded it as a very magical place and as she stared up into the branches she was presented with a sight that both took her breath away and brought a smile to her lips.
She had met this being before once upon a time in a dangerous moment. ‘The Archangel Kamijo, heavenly right-hand to the Father above.’ Then she had been tongue tied and amazed to have been saved by an actual angel and even now as she stared upon the sleeping figure she could think of no words to describe just how beautiful he appeared. Though it probably wasn’t necessary she felt the need to thank him again for his help when she had fallen, or perhaps she just longed to speak to him again, longer than she had in their first meeting.
Pulling out her notebook she tore out a sheet of paper and began to write a note in her neatest penmanship.
‘The tree’s spoke of a great being in the forest but I didn’t imagine it would be you. I realized I never truly thanked you for your help when I fell and I apologize if I seemed ungrateful or rude.
I had never laid eyes upon an Angel let alone an Archangel and I was a bit…in Awe. Even now you look as if you belong in a painting depicting the creatures of the world.’
Oh good gosh she was rambling but could she honestly be blamed? Katarina appreciated the beautiful things in life, and this man embodied all of those things.
‘If I can ever be of help to you, please allow me. I’m a witch, and while I can’t fly or save people falling from towers, I can help in my own way. I am in your debt.’
Now there was the matter of getting him the note. Glancing around she didn’t see any bag that could be the mans, and she hated to leave the note in a place where it could be missed or blown away. Perhaps she could…
From her spot on the ground she could just barely reach the tips of those beautiful wings spread across the branches. Was it a sin to touch the wings of an angel? She wasn’t sure and yet as her fingers crept higher and higher to meekly brush the plush feathers she was almost willing to have her soul condemned to hell if it was.
