Morningstar
I remember my last perfect day.
It was yesterday.
It was before I had to get on the bus and say goodbye to my parents. It was before everyone stared at me in horror. Before, I had decided to put up my hair, like I always did on special occasions.
Little did I know how special it would be.
I had gone to my graduation ceremony to stand up proudly before my family and friends. A proud Celeste my parents could celebrate, moving to one of the major cities where actual angels lived among us.
Pure, clean, knowledgeable, and obedient. All words to describe my virtues before I went to the podium. To accept such an accomplishment.
I wondered where my life had gone wrong to deserve this. What choices I could have made differently. Wondering how and why I had been chosen to be publicly shamed and humiliated.
The sound of screeching brakes made it hard to focus on anything but bleak thoughts as we retrieved another of the Marked.
The world had gone to war with itself about fifty years back, and my era was supposed to be one of peace. It never really ended. While bombs, famine and upturned governments were the norm; there were things of the past. Both Angels, the Fallen and Demons continued to let us know that the new world order, and the final war, was on the horizon.
Considering the stories and amount of protection we had received on the Celestial territory since my childhood; it had made sense to want to join the Academy. To live in one of the central cities, to train to be anything and everything they needed me to be.
It was the right side of things, as heavenly beings always had been.
The Celestial side had angels, benevolent beings that let us rule over ourselves. They wanted the betterment of humanity as much as we did, and they unlike the other side didn’t believe in ruling over us.
Though traditionally anything handed down by the Celestial Council would be honored. They were divine beings we had worshiped for generations made by the hand of God.
Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Sariel, Raguel, Remiel... and many more angels, kept us safe. Being a soldier wasn’t in the cards. Yet they had found me worthy enough to serve. Bothering me only because I wanted nothing more than to give my life to the cause. Or die trying.
I tried not to think of how many times I might need to run in my new home, and fight for my life. Where I wouldn’t have anyone or anywhere to run to. No friends. No family.
My eyes popped open a moment before the bus lurched forward and stopped, making me thrust out my hand to keep myself from falling forward. Crashing me back into this reality like a freight train. Narrowly avoiding a giant wad of gum between my index finger and thumb.
I tried not to gag shooting my hand back into my chest and putting up a knee up defensively to help me stay away from the gum. The trip alone already being a travesty since they were far beyond the comforts of what was normal for a Celestial citizen. Everything was dirty, the bus barely looked like it wanted to function and everyone had the same hallow terrified look I did save our driver.
I don’t belong here.
Another girl came onto the bus, looking even more haunted, the first twinge of sympathy I could feel for another as our eyes met. Her mark wasn’t visible until she passed; the inky blackness marred her entire right arm where the sleeve had been torn off.
She carried a small trash bag with items in it, items that looked drenched.
The pain in her face was clear.
Rejected.
We all were. That was nothing new. It didn’t matter who your Celestial family was.
If you were stained, the only choice was to leave Celestial territory to the one territory you were safe in. Assuming one of your family members didn’t try to quietly kill you instead. Staying resulted in persecution as well. Families trying to keep or hide the marked were punished severely- not that it was needed.
We always became a danger to ourselves or others. It was safer for everyone for us to disappear.
To pretend... we never existed.
To my shame I shrunk away, curling up into my luggage away from her .There were no friends here, so there wasn’t a point in trying. We were all under scrutiny, and once we went over the border, it would be a free-for-all.
Every person knew what the mark meant. Demons would want us for one reason or another, something about our souls worthy enough to want to claim, but not pure enough for the Celestials to try to save.
Unworthy of Celestial territory. Tainted. Invalid as humans. Vessels for Demons and their spawn.
Thoughts of a historical movie they showed us in class with a woman chained next to a giant blob of an alien crossed my mind making my stomach pitch. Forced to wear nearly nothing while entertaining.
A slave.
That wasn’t half of what slavery could entail.
Sheltered by our Celeste brothers, sisters, friends and family. I covered my mouth, wondering if I refused to eat; would my teeth remain, or if they would just let me perish.
Perhaps they had found other ways to feed the unwilling.
A sob formed in my throat as I covered my mouth, and the bus began to move forward once more. My own thoughts running away with me at the thought of being whipped. Or the idea of working in a field until my lips and hands cracked and bled. Attempting to keep as quiet as possible.
This has be the last pick up, we were moving faster than before. My anxiety rising at the thought.
My heart pounding as I felt us move smoothly onto one of the few main roads still available to everyone. Ground transportation was limited to special occasions such as this, gathering the impure after a blood moon every thirteen years, returning them to their proper territory. I hadn’t been concerned about it... thinking I wouldn’t be affected.
Such a small part of our population ever was.
The Celestials didn’t have to recruit humans by force, it was just the Undire that marked their own. Yet another reason I would have rather fought for the Celeste’s. Angry tears building and spilling at the thought.
Now that choice was taken from me.
Part of me wanted to vow I would fight on behalf of “my kind” at every turn. As I stared at the gum, I speculated how weak my ideology I truly was. I wasn’t one of them anymore, and my kind was no longer those untouched by darkness.
The thought already starting to destroy everything that made me, me.
The bus was slowing again, this time coming to what looked to be a checkpoint of Celestial territory. Panic setting in, nervousness building in my stomach, climbing up my throat and drawing tension in my shoulders as we drew closer to the Undire’s checkpoint. Growing to full alarm as the bus halted to a stop. Wondering how I had gone from living with Angels, to meeting a demon face to face as a saw a flicker of unnatural color outside my window.
This would be the first inspection. The first encounter with a demon for all of us. Almost no one in Celestial territories coming even close to having to ever encounter one.
Lambs that now came to a slaughter...
All of our eyes were glued to the front as my breath came in small, panicked pants, attempting to keep quiet.
She was- nothing we expected though. This demon looked like any other beautiful woman, if you liked the pink on a daisy. Her hair was pink and purple hair with pink contacts, while otherwise looking like any other person might. Colors that weren’t permitted within Celeste’s territory to be worn like that.
It was highly distracting, and a clear sign that there was something off about an individual with to much color.
Her smile was sweet and overly charming. Her arms and legs were adorned in black fishnets, and her clothing was a strange assortment of colored patchwork that somehow managed to look flattering. Each movement, was full of confidence as she walked down the aisles she put her eyes on each one of us. When she came to me, she paused, bending down to sweetly caress my face.
Her breath smelled like bubble gum and lilacs, making my head spin as she pulled away her icy fingers. “Your gift is a pretty one.”
Beyond the comment, she hardly batted an eyelash as she let go of me, moving on and checking the seats behind and next to me. Two rows back; you wouldn’t think she was the same person.
Her voice turned into a violent whip. “You haven’t been kissed by the darkness. You’re unwelcome, human.”
“No. Please. Test me again, look in my eyes. I-”
The hairs on my neck prickled as all of us looked back. A boy- for he had to be only about nineteen or so with dark dusty brown hair and stunning green eyes, had a bag. He indeed didn’t look like he belonged. A backpack zipped up, a jacket on; and a look of determination no one else had despite his bold mark covering the left side of his neck climbing down into his torso.
“You are an unworthy soul of our king and lords. You belong here unless you can find your way out yourself.”
“No, please I-”
The back door flung open, without sight or sound of who had touched the latch. The boy was kicking his feet, as she grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him with ease. With a few steps, she flung him out the back, his head cracking on the concrete with a nasty thud, making me cringe. No longer moving.
I hoped he wasn’t dead.
None of us said a word, quiet as two men appeared outside the bus covered entirely in black from head to toe and collected the (hopefully) unconscious boy. The female turned back with a sweet smile. Her hands clasped.
As if her speech could erase all wrong doings.
“Only the worthy may cross the border, consider yourself highly lucky.” Her words were perky and sweet, but devoid of all compassion.
Someone caught her eye, causing the pink demon to smile, reaching out her arms, stepping forward to the last girl that had entered the bus. As if realizing she had missed her. “Oh, Olive. We had hoped you were going to make it. Come with me.”
“M-M-me?” She stuttered, her hands around her trash bag shaking as she held it to her chest.
The female demon tutted, walking forward to place a hand on her back and guide her to the back door, where another pair of men in black were waiting silently, their faces covered by the same black attire. “Of course. Alec Morningstar demanded it.”
Morningstar.
She had caught the attention of the royal family.
I felt nothing but pity as she was escorted away, her pale parlor betraying nothing.
Olive would likely be dead by morning.
