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Passion of an Angel

Suren Hakobyan




  Passion of an Angel

  A Captivating, Mystical and Erotic Story about the Life Before Earth.

 

  Shade of Light Series

  By

  Suren Hakobyan

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cover Art:

  Suren Hakobyan

  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

  Copyright 2013 Suren Hakobyan

 

 

  Darkness, absolute, and enveloping the endless space followed by light forcing to pierce through blackness like a flaring sword slicing an enemy and bringing victory. What else can be more beautiful, he thought, than light; illuminating, warming and supporting life? Nothing, but the flaming circle in space lighting the glade, its light stretching forward and getting lost in the horizon.

  Like a playful child, the first sunray skipped over the sky, rushing up towards the creature sitting on top of a high rock. As the light broke the darkness and reflected in his black eyes, the creature got stunned. The warm waves of sun reached down to the ground. The glade revived. The grass ruffled in a northern wind. The morning’s dampness with its fresh sweet smell wafted through the air.

  The creature stared down in awe, blinking his barely-believing eyes as the miracle unfolded before him. His jaw dropped and standing up ever so slowly, his heart began to pound. The corners of his eyes twitched. He felt them begin to moisten. Never in his life had he seen such beauty.

  For a long moment, the curious creature stood still, his ruffled black hair the only reminder of not being the part of the lifeless rock. He was real as the glade, as the wind and sun. His eyes, usually icy and devoid of emotion, cracked and then twinkled as the first tear rolled lazily from them. It was his first real emotion, and the first thing his heart had ever felt.

  The magnificent figure standing grandly on the rock was an angel – the first creature of God and the first set of eyes to witness Lord crafting His masterpiece and drawing life. The angel’s crisp white uniform shone in the sun’s dancing rays. Reflections of light bounced off him, and at first glance he looked to be a diamond catching every ray and throwing it haphazardly around.

  He wiped off the tear and looked at the small drop astonished. Still he had no way of knowing that small amount of water was going to change him forever. Looking ahead, he stretched out his hand as if he wanted to touch the glade. The angel found it hard to believe that what stood before him wasn’t a picture, it was real. It was the beginning of life.

  The sun grew brighter and balanced the unearthly light coming from the angel. In dismay he peeked down at his outstretched hands, not wanting to accept the powerlessness of his light against the imposing yellow circle above.

  The smell of grass carried on the wind stuck the angel’s face. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the new smell deeply. With a pleased smile his eyes slid open playfully, he uttered a happy cry and sprinted ahead, swooping down toward the glade. He darted ahead, trying to satisfy the desire to touch everything that his could see. The wind blowing in his face filled him with new life. He threw himself on the grass, picking up the green things and bringing them closer to his face. Like a child he examined them.

  “What are you doing?” The angel heard a surprised voice interrupting his thoughts. Yet he didn’t look back, nor did he try to answer. He ignored the sound and remained seated on the damp grass. “Have you been waiting all night long?”

  The newcomer was another angel – tall, blond, long hair hung loosely on his shoulders. His blue eyes cold, emotionless and that seemed almost carrying no soul. Clad in the same white uniform, slightly metallic in appearance and spreading heavenly light from its reflections. His fingers interlaced, the newcomer approached, slowly acknowledging his surroundings with indifference.

  “Yes,” The sitting angel replied at last, sounding mournful. He struggled to his feet, “And I believe it wasn’t in vain.”

  “Do you think so?” The tall, blue-eyed angel asked flatly. “There is nothing to wait for.”

  The angel muttered through gritted teeth: “Because you’re obviously blind, Brother.”

  He could explain the value of Creation, but doubted his brother would get it. That’s why he sighed in disappointment and spun around to face the newcomer reluctantly. The expression on his face cold concealing the feeling in his eyes. “Why have you come here? Did you want to look at this miracle too?”

  “No,” His new and unwanted companion mused rudely with an air of arrogance. In the remark was a suggestion, that there wasn’t anything worth admiring.

  “What then?” The angel frowned.

  “Father’s sent me. He summons you to Heaven.”

  A long pause. The angel averted his eyes from the newcomer, turned his back to him and glanced up at the rising sun.

  “All right,” He heaved a silent sigh, and then inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with the morning’s fresh air once more.

  The blue-eyed one nodded. Wheeling around, he scrabbled away. As soon as he approached the high rock, like a smoke, he disappeared with a blink of the eye, evaporating into the air.

  Time passed—time that had reason to pass—there was life longing for development. The curious angel walked along that life all day long, with admiration examining the forest, animals and the weather, trying to discover the secret of creation and wanting to be like God, showing his abilities. The purpose became his existence, he forgot why he had been born and what he was supposed to be, and he had finally left Heaven. His new home was here, among the trees, the animals, the wind and the sun.

  Wandering through the forest, the angel reached a river–a place where the taller trees withdrew, giving the sunrays a chance to easily fall to the ground. The angel stopped for a second and with narrowed eyes, he stared dead ahead.

  A man was sitting on the opposite bank. The angel closed his eyes in disappointment. After a moment he jumped, unlatching himself from the ground. Using his unearthly powers he crossed the river.

  The man didn’t look scared or surprised, he was used to seeing the angel jumping or flying above the forest. He threw a sad look at the unearthly creature then turned his sorrowful eyes away. There was a waterfall not far from the man, the sound of the cascading water filled the air around.

  “Again, you’re sitting near the waterfall?” He asked with a hushed voice. The man looked straight through him.

  “Yes,” He answered shortly.

  “I can’t understand you,” The angel confessed honestly. “The miracle around us isn’t enough for you? What else does Man want?”

  “I don’t know,” The man sighed desperately. “Maybe I’m useless beneath the sun.”

  “Nothing can be useless here, I’ve examined everything and I’m pretty sure.”

  “Then what is going on with me?” The man cried out. He picked up a stone and heaved it into the water.

  The angel stared at the man petrified; his beautiful eyes watched as another new emotion was revealed; the emotion of anger.

  “I’m tired and lonely,” The man went on in a voice of forced calm. “I need a change. Look!” He picked up another stone, fingering it carefully. Pointing it towards the angel, he threw it hard into the water. “I tried to change something, but,” He indicated down to the ground, and the angel
saw the same stone, in its previous place, “Father doesn’t allow me. He allows nobody, neither me, nor you to change anything around here.”

  “Your eyes are closed like my brothers’,” The angel said spreading his arm wide around him. “You are thinking like them. You can only see the surface of this world.”

  “What can your eyes see? They are deprived of seeing such beauty!” The man sneered smugly and a teasing smile curled on his lips. It faded away as quickly as it appeared when he saw the indifferent expression on the angel’s face. “Who am I explaining to,” he muttered to himself under his breath, “it’s exactly like speaking to a plant, nothing!”

  “Look,” The angel responded abruptly, “The feeling just appeared in you. It’s beautiful! Yet you use it without trying to conceive its beauty!”

  “What kind of beauty are you talking about?” The man interrupted stiffly. “You don’t even know what it is, a feeling. Because,” he jabbed his finger toward the angel, “you are deprived of any ability to feel. You haven’t been given feelings by Father. Yes, you are clever, but cleverness can’t make you feel. Life is for the creatures that can feel and you can’t!”

  “You’re a fool! Shut up!” The angel cried out maliciously, his voice echoed around, making the surroundings trail off and every sound fade away dead as though life had stopped. “What can such a primitive creature like you understand in Father’s creation?