💛 DAY 5 OF MONSTER WEEK — ANGEL PHILZA
[1500+]
[gender-neutral]
Description: You're a priest for Lady Death when you kinda... accidentally... refuse to let the grim reaper claim a soul.
[Read the rest under the cut]
You were raised within a church worshipping Lady Death, who you have always cherished. You have always been told you should never fear death, as it is only natural, it is an unstoppable force. Or, that's what they told you when you had caughten the Withering Effect, a terminal disease with no known cure.
Of course, you had agreed. This has been written in Lady Death's plans far before you knew how to speak, this is your natural course, fear would stop nothing.
Now, facing off an angel, whose darkened black wings you've only seen in portraits, with golden hair and narrowed eyes like from the sculptures. Sir Philza, Lady Death's most beloved angel, has come to take a soul and you refuse to let it happen.
Behind you is a young boy, with similar golden hair and pure sky blue eyes, now watery as they cower and clutch at your robes. He is sickly pale, he is so young.
"Sir Philza," Your voice does not quiver, which surprises you because bravery has never been a title of yours. "I beg of you, do not take this young soul from us. I will offer you anything."
"Even your soul," His eyes, icy blue daggers, cling to your face, to your eyes. They see too much, you feel naked, you don't look away. "It is only natural for disturbing nature so."
"If that is the price, let it be so," You kneel, still keeping the young boy behind you. "I will pay any dues."
Sir Philza looks over you, dancing over every relaxed muscle with a fine-toothed comb, as if searching for any fear. You cannot show it, you will not let the young boy die having lived such an empty life. His eyes aren't icy anymore, there is something substantial in them when he looks at you, as if your choice was respectable instead of ruinous. "I shall accept no soul today. It is my boon to you."
"You are a generous lord, Sir," You stay on your knee, head dipped to your chest. "And what is it you wish instead?"
"I shall accompany you until you die. I wish to see why it is you live so…" Sir Philza's lips audibly pucker, "Interestingly. I can't imagine this is a common occurrence."
"As you wish, Sir," You try to take as stealthy of a deep breath as you can, disbelieving that you had succeded in your insane actions.
{《☆》}
You had arrived at the temple with Sir Philza and Tommy, who had insisted on joining you to protect you from Sir Philza, who has firmly cemented himself in the young boy's head as evil. Having brought Sir Philza along with you, your fellow priests had spoken only politely to you, with none of their usual casual speech, as if you were a Saint instead of their friend, It all felt so alienating.
Sir Philza has been shadowing you since and with Tommy's health rapidly getting better, he also followed you around. It was only after a week did Sir Philza seem inclined to inform you that Tommy had the magical attunement to become a Saint to Lady Death.
Of course, you had told Tommy, who insisted on doing morning and afternoon prayers with you to see if Lady Death could stop what he called "the dying of your light" which Sir Philza pleasantly translated as Tommy seeing your soul dying. Truly heartening.
"Sir Philza," You took the time to initiate a conversation with the angel at least once a day, both from obligation and curiosity, "How long have you been collecting souls for Lady Death, our records are unclear."
"I'm not quite sure," Sir Philza paused, "I was born very early, far before any other angel could recall. I must at least be half a million years old at this point."
"Oh," You can't say you expected a number that large.
"Wow, you're old," Tommy chimes in unhelpfully. "You're like a grandpa. Grandpa Phil."
Sir Philza smiles, every day he seems to become more endeared to Tommy, and now he positively beams, "I am a grandpa, so I suppose you're allowed to call me as such, young saint." He looks far more pleased than he pretends.
"I wasn't aware angels could have children," You say before Tommy can disrespect the powerful angel more. "Are you the exception or should I fix our records."
"A little of both," Sir Philza doesn't need to think for this one, "It's completely possible but since most of our children are born mortal, angels don't bother. So, I'm definitely an exception to something."
"And were they?" You blurt before you can stop yourself. You cough, "Mortals, Human I mean."
"Yes," Sir Philza looks down at Tommy, who looks considerably more bored as he starts stacking and breaking towers of books. His face is wound tightly in pain, "My son was born mortal, as was my grandchild. I--," his breath catches, "I killed him myself."
"Oh," You weren't sure what you were expecting. Then, your wounds flare and you grunt, "My apologies for asking such a thing."
"It's no bother," Sir Philza laughs it off. He is a very kind person, you've found out. He is polite even though he's of such a high status, cares for humanity, and adores children. He is more human than some people you've met, even as an angel. "How has your daily prayers going," His eyes curve as he smiles, "I imagine Tommy is a delight so early in the morning."
'You sigh heavily, "Do not get me started, Sir Philza. I'm beginning to think he is an imp not a saint."
He laughs, "Oh yes, I can imagine. Were it not for my aversion to mornings, I'd join you just for the sight."
"You don't need to see it to know," You gesture your hands as you talk, "Every priest in the temple is talking of the newest way Saint Tommy's disrupted morning prayers. Most find it endearing but Sir Marshall has written multiple strongly worded letters, none of which Tommy had bothered to read."
"I read some of them," Tommy protested, "But he uses too many long words and they get boring quickly."
"That's fair, young saint," Sir Philza ruffles Tommy's hair, "If I read every letter sent to me, I would also stop reading them all at some point."
"Sir Philza," You stay, scandalized. Then your stomach feels inclined to rearrange itself and your vision blacks out from the pain. Tommy is being kept preoccupied from noticing by Sir Philza, who can tell just by looking at you how little time is left.
{《☆》}
He finds you sitting outside one day, staring into the sky. Your soul is weak, dim and dying. There is so much melancholy in this painted picture; a dying priest sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, staring at stars which are simultaneous dying and being reborn every second.
"Why did you let me live that day," You trace lines at the stars, memorizing the constellations' unique shine. You don't look over when you hear Sir Philza sit. "What did you see in me."
There's a pause before Sir Philza breaks it hesitantly, "You protected that young boy. You wanted to protect his pure soul, even though he was a stranger. You were unwavering, unstoppable."
"You let me live because I don't fear Death," You surmise because it's the only thing you can fathom.
"I let you live becauseyou fear Death," Sir Philza corrects, tone ever so soft, "If you hadn't feared Death I would think you a fool but… You protected Tommy even when you were afraid. You didn't hesitate, you didn't back down. Your kindness is rare and your strength even rarer."
"You flatter me," Your eyes settle down to your lap, embarrassed to hear such a spin on that story. In your memories, it had been sudden and quick. You had been afraid, very afraid actually. But you have never once regretted it and you wouldn't've even if you had actually died. "I have a lot to thank you for, Sir Philza,"
"At that moment, you looked like an immovable object," Sir Philza said, voice quiet like the admission was a secret. It's almost like he hadn't heard you. "You reminded me of Lady Death."
"That's a high compliment, Sir, really but…" You faltered, finally looking over at him. He was looking at you too, as if he was seeing through you, cradling your soul with his warm smile, like a parent holding their child. "I will miss this after I die."
Sir Philza's smile loses its warmth and he looks as sad as you feel, "I will miss this too. You are a special soul, young priest, and it's an honour to know you."
"I should be the one saying that," You laugh sadly, gazing back up at the stars. They shine extra bright tonight as if to say We see you too, we burn for you. "I have a selfish request to make."
"Anything," Sir Philza says, with no pause this time.
"I would like for you to be the last thing I see," You whisper, "You and Saint Tommy."
"If that's what you wish," Sir Philza says, voice oh so warm, oh so mourning, "Then it shall be so. I'll ask someone to fetch Tommy. You won't die alone."
"Thank you," You smile, feeling nothing but relief. Maybe you're a fool right now because you're not the slightest bit afraid.
{《☆》}
[Okay, this was supposed to be longer but I'm already late and also have to be up in like 4 hours so just pretend the jump of strangers to friends makes sense PLEASE]
[Anyways, please don't be me. Get sleep, lots of it. Oh and check out the PROMPT LIST OoOOohhHhHWwWweEEeEeEee]
[L0v3, k1ng]
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