This is an older story of mine I was asked to post. It's all here right now since I finished it some time ago. It was largely inspired by FFVII: Advent Children and I'm sure that will show. If you haven't seen it, not a problem since it's not related to FF at all. I was at one point going for an epic level DnD adventure with this, and to be honest I'm not sure which idea I had first, the fiction or the adventure, but it's a story now. Cor is the current cosplay I'm trying to build.
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One-Winged-Angel
The moonlight cast a luminous glow over the trees, bare white towers against a night sky infused with deep navy blue. Cradled in the pearly, leafless branches, Cor looked up at the sky. The moon was especially large. Mother is watching. Rising from his repose he crossed to another tree and leapt from the boughs. They whispered and shook behind him as he landed in a crouch, water arcing and spraying droplets on his face as the waves broke against the trees. Looking up at the moon, he smiled. “I’ve found him, Mother. Just like I said I would.”
The water ebbed around his boots as he strode through the water, a low valley once, now flooded into a wide, shallow lake. He walked slowly, the treetops gradually curling into a corridor lit by the moon’s reflective glow and the green cast of fireflies. The only sound was the rolling of the water and the ripples lapping at the tree trunks.
Deeper into the corridor the wood began to take on life. Small blue buds appeared sparsely on the branches, growing more numerous and mixed with draping emerald mosses. Blue petals floated on the surface, clustering around the bases of the trees where the water grew murky. The flora grew to an apex at the mineralized carcass of a venerable dragon, lying like a fallen mountain. Cor pushed aside the long strings of ivy reaching out on the water and approached the dragon’s gaping, frozen maw.
A splash in the water behind him sent a misty spray up his back and neck. There was a quick gust as a pair of downy wings fluttered into a shimmering cloak. The water swelled against Cor’s boots as the individual strode over to meet him.
“You truly intend to go through with it, Cor.”
“There is nothing to be gained by waiting.”
“What will you do?”
“I will make them remember what it is to die.”
The newcomer stared at Cor’s back. “Why?”
Cor laughed. “There are no heroes anymore, Razael. You of all people should know that. To the common mortal you’re and angel; to the gods you’re a thief.” He watched a petal bob lightly on the water. “The gods are complacent and their followers are blind to their own abilities.”
“You know they will try and stop you.”
“And it will doom them.”
For several seconds the two beings were as silent as the stone dragon.
Razael spoke first. “I can’t help you in this Cor.”
Cor turned his face to Razael. “Will you try to stop me?”
They exchanged looks, then Razael turned and walked away. Cor heard a quick kick-splash as his friend pushed into the air on his stolen white wings. He focused again on the carcass of the dragon.
Black teeth hung like rows of stalactites over Cor’s head. He walked up the curving, petrified tongue and down back of the throat, pulling himself through the cramped passage of the esophagus. Emerging into the rough cavern of the stomach, his gaze settled on the thick hilt of a weapon plunging deep into its stony wall. A thin smile spread across his face, lingering in his green, mismatched eyes; “just like I said I would.” He wrapped both hands around the hilt and pulled.