The City of Angels

There once was a tale of a land called Cielo. It rested on mountains that danced with the clouds; but those mountains weren’t really mountains at all, you see, they were these giant floating rocks that held valleys and rivers and streams and forests. There were countless numbers of them. Those giant rocks that held little towns and villages and, cities floated on grace. They hovered ever so slightly and ever so slowly. The motion of their soothing sways could only be felt when one was truly at peace with themselves and in tune with the lively land.

The sides and bottom of these mystical mountains were covered with vines and roots that twisted outward from the plants that grew from the top. Sometimes patches of lush, green grass would sprout on the bottoms, allowing meadows and gardens to thrive in the rich rocks and dirt, growing upside sown, reaching for from their place of divinity to the humble earth.

The air was cool and thin, but it was met with the warmth of the near sun, being the first to receive his warm rays each morning. At night the streams and lakes looked like shimmering silver under the lovely moon that took the sun’s place each and every evening. She rose as he fell, keeping a watchful light over the celestial earths.

Fireflies lit themselves in every color imaginable as they twisted about on their flight paths and even the plants emitted a glow that seemed to radiate the stunning colors that they were comprised of. There wasn’t a place for darkness to rule there, not even at night. It was sometimes referred to as The Land of a Billion Lights. It was a place too beautiful for just any creature, it was reserved and protected for those who were entrusted to it. It was only for the few—the beautiful, the sweet, the innocent, the pure—the divine.

All of them had fair skin, light and soft to the touch. It seemed to radiate and when shone by the sun it glimmered and danced with the playful light. They had hair of gold like thriving fields of wheat and eyes to match. Their eyes were deep. They held wisdom and knowledge and secrets. They held love, kindness and a sense of undeniable, innocent-like purity.

They dressed in gowns laced with diamonds and netted their hair with jewelry that shimmered like little stars. They were gorgeous creatures, physical beings of grace itself. they were so pure, so noble, so divine, so valuable that they were hunted. They were capture for the large, white, feathery wings that sprouted from their shoulder blades. Their wings held no power for anyone else, but undesirable creatures thought that if they could obtain the wings, then they could finally become something of desire, someone’s lust, someone that would be accepted. And that’s exactly what happened, until the last angel fell and The City of Angels, no longer lit up.

The fireflies stopped playing and the plants dried into themselves. The air that once had a sense of comfort, became dry. The wind turned brutal and the sun, hot, leaving the humid air to choke the throats of its victims. Meadows and vines no longer climb the sides of the rocks, rather, they began to crumble. The streets bore desolation and screamed, pleading for mercy from the ruin it had become.

There is no longer a home for the light on Cielo.