As he stands upon a sea shore, he marvels at the familiarity he feels at the simple act of borrowing his toes deep into the sand. He looks to the sea.
It is endless. Infinite. Truly immortal.
It's song is both ancient and young. Timeless. It has tasted the ashes, the tears, the blood of humanity, yet knows no pain. It is serene and savage, pure and tainted. It is a contradiction.
As the nephilym looks upon the sea, It remembers what legends it inspired, and revels in awe. He listens to the waves.
The lullaby caresses the him. So much like the call of the cosmos he frequented within his father's memories before being born a human child. No longer was he an angel. His form, both intangible and terrifying to behold was now condensed into the fleshy form of a young boy. This existence has not ever felt the least bit cumbersome. His mortal mother has done well with raising her strange, otherworldly child.
He listens closely. He could just barely hear the echoes of stars being reborn. Could mortals hear these echoes?
He recalls his few days before his birth that he spent watching particular young girls and boys would venture to gaze upon the sea.
'Yes....' He thought. 'They too hear what I hear.'
He gazes at the sky as the sun began it's ascension. When the first ray of light turns night into day, He too, is changed. His eyes transform from obsidian to a pearlescent white that glows from within. The only heavenly feature bestowed upon him by his angelic ancestry greet the morning with a light more brilliant than the sun.
He closes his eyes, succumbing, once again, to the sound of the waves. It is as if it calls to him, bidding him to explore another mystery. Another miracle. He would be far from the pain he'd seen every day, the misery of the human existence. There would be nothing but the loss of gravity, and infinite blue.
He begins to walk into the sea, spreading his arms, bidding the fair winds a temporary farewell. As he walks, the waves continue to pull him deeper, eager to claim a child of stars as their own.
Then finally, he is submerged, and as if the sea has been sated, the pulling ebbs away until he is floating within the infinite blue.
It is beautiful, Primal. And though he knows it will not be forever, he feels bliss that he has only felt when watching the earth from a distance, it's size that of a luminescent pebble. It takes him back to a time when there was no sight or smell. Where the sound of a human voice was foreign, distant. It is as if he is within the womb, protected. It is as if he is once more, in the beginning.
In that moment, the sea was his mother.
It was then that he knew why it called to him. There was a feeling of completion and fulfillment that he had felt quite rarely.
He could have easily left this world. It was tempting to leave the people that he'd become fond of. Leave the people who'd come to fear his unnatural eyes, his ability to speak tongues that had become dead with the passing of civilizations. But his yearning for the earthly existence was not yet satisfied.
He was reminded that while he could venture far from this small, strange world to realms no mere mortal could travel, their blood still ran within his veins. He would always be a child of earth and stars.
Abruptly, his serenity was ended by the demands of his body, which was for the time being made of flesh and blood.
He made his journey to the surface, thrashing his limbs violently, his serenity ended. he surfaced, and took his first ragged gasp. The cruel, yet suddenly precious air scraped at the skin that was exposed, as if punishing him for his absence, or his sudden change of heart. He did not know why he was in agony, only that the air burned.
It is as if he is being born again.
He sluggishly makes his way back to the shore, crawling as if there is a great weight upon him, before collapsing upon the sand and gazing back out to the sea that had in one moment brought him closer to him former peace than ever before.
The wingless nephylim, or rather the ten year old boy, glances back at the rising sun, and feels a deep sorrow. For a long, long time will he be cursed to see miracles and indescribable beauty in silence and solitude.
Is this how his father feels? Forever watching over him and his mother, yet forbidden to comfort, protect, or guide them, does he now regret his forbidden love for a mortal woman?
"Joshua? Time to go home." His mother, Marice, calls out to him from a distance.
Instantly, his eyes glaze over before converging into mundane green eyes, very much like his mother's. He carefully composes his expression to one befitting that of a young boy. One of dissapointment and compliance.
"I'm coming!" He replies.
He gazes out at the sea a moment longer before turning to Marice. He found her gazing out at that very same horizon, eyes distant, brow furrowed in thought as he approaches.
"When you stare out there like that, you look just like your father." She says softly, almost to herself. "Sometimes i think you'll disappear beneath the waves. This is the last place I saw him before he left me, you know..."
He smiles sadly, and his eyes shift to the radiant figure of the wingless angel standing a small distance the forlorn woman. He is dressed for battle, his heavenly armor once blindingly bright with light from the stars, now dull as iron. His winged helmet is rusted, the beautiful engravings of ancient scriptures now unrecognizable. A dull blade which was once ablaze with heavenly fire is strapped to his hip in a rusting scabbard. Pearlescent eyes of brilliant gold meet his. The infinite grief and wisdom within their depths piercing him to his core.
Valzria. Fallen angel, former gaurdian of the sea. His father.
The angel's hand jerks towards Marice, and Joshua knows it is an instinctive gesture to reach out to her being abruptly stifled. Valria's eyes linger on the woman before turning back to his son to give him a gentle, reassureing smile.
"I miss him." Marice murmers.
The angel's smile fades into a carefully impassive mask.
Joshua turns away from them so his mother will not see just how deeply he is affected by what she could never see. He can only offer futile words of comfort
"He never left you."
