Information

Khim
Legacy Name: Khim

The Angelic Demi
Owner: Possum

Age: 7 years, 8 months, 3 weeks

Born: July 22nd, 2016

Adopted: 7 years, 8 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: July 22nd, 2016

Statistics

• Level: 1
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 41
   
• Books Read: 41
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

Not all fallen angels become demons

Upon creation, the angel was bestowed with the name 'Khimarael'. Veiled. Unusual for a Cherubim, perhaps, but it was not wise to question The Creator. Doing so would lead to trouble, perhaps even banishment from His light. Lucifer and his followers could speak volumes of what betrayal did for them. The angel spent most of their time ferrying lesser angels to His side for communications or bringing them to the Earth to watch over The Creator's newest creation, mankind.
Humanity didn't really concern Khimarael. When Adam and Eve ate from the Tree, they merely shed a single tear for the loss of humanity's innocence. But time marched on. On one visit to Earth, Khimarael spotted someone whose existence would change everything. A young boy, fishing from a stream. His hair was dark and curly, his skin a light mocha. Dark brown eyes focused on his task. Khimarael watched him silently, the four pairs of eyes of their invisible-to-the-human-eye angelic form transfixed. The angel found themselves visiting Earth more often on their own, watching the boy, silently, unnoticed.
Khimarael watched him grow. The young man soon took a wife, and the angel felt the first pangs of emotions other than adulation for The Creator... jealousy? How curious. Khimarael continued their unsanctioned visits to the mortal world, almost begging for the human to notice them. But to become visible to humanity would take a lot of work - the True Archangels were capable of such a feat, sure... but the True Archangels were also far stronger than Cherubim. Perhaps... perhaps if Khimarael were to focus really hard, they, too, could manifest. Time marched forward.
The wife died whilst giving birth to their third child. Once again, Khimarael felt a human emotion that they did not particularly care for. Perhaps now is the time... The angel made another unsanctioned trip to Earth and manifested. Four heads, most of them animalistic, with three pairs of wings sporting several more burning eyes... the few people in the vicinity of Khimarael's manifestation screamed in abject terror and fled before they could exclaim "BE NOT AFRAID", as they had witnessed the True Archangels do when manifesting. Oh well. Perhaps this could buy time to create a more... aesthetically-pleasing shape.
De-manifesting was far easier than the actual manifestation. Pulling together a mortal form, however, was even harder than manifesting. It took all of the angel's strength to pull together a form resembling that of the humans... but the reflection in the waters proved it was a success. The angel's new form had skin the color of the warm sand under their feet. Hair as dark as the wings of the birds that flew in the sky above, and eyes that matched the cool blue waters - and only one pair, they noted with some satisfaction. This new body was as naked as if it had just been born, which, Khimarael supposed, was the case, having only just been formed. And, it appeared, this new form was female. Khimarael took note of this and began to slowly integrate herself into the human village. She watched her love from afar.

Shirking one's duties to the Heavenly Host was not to be taken lightly, it would seem. The punishment came on swift wings. Gabriel, the Archangel, and The Metatron himself. The Voice. They found Khimarael one night as the angel slept.

"Khimarael. You do not belong here. Not among Humanity." The angels came to her in human form themselves, clearly not wanting to incite a panic.

In a surprising moment of defiance, Khimarael spat back. "My being here harms no one. Were we not ordered to love humans?" Her would-be punishers seemed shocked at her words. Gabriel's brow furrowed in the uncomfortable silence. "That may be, but we are not to live among them. They are not our equals. We cannot become Human, and they cannot become Angels."
"Then I choose to no longer be part of the Host. Take my wings, my grace. I lay my sword at your feet and declare that I want no more part of that world. I wish to live as these Humans do." Khimarael took out a silver blade from under the cot which served as a bed, and lay it on the ground. Even in the dark of night, it shone with a flame-like brilliance.

Gabriel's attention turned to The Metatron. The Voice merely smiled thinly, and spoke. Khimarael knew that this sound was His voice, not that of the seraphim. This was the voice of The Creator. "Very well. Your punishment will be not to be cast into the void as was done to Lucifer and his ilk. No... You wish to live as the Humans? Very well. You, my child, shall be cut off from The Host. You will be stripped of your wings-" as He said this, Khimarael felt a searing pain ripple through her body, unlike anything she had ever felt before, "you will only be able to use the form you are currently in," once more, a searing pain rippled through Khimarael's body, mostly radiating from the sides of her face, "but you will remain immortal. Your body will not bear any fruit. You will not fall ill. You will watch these humans that you claim to love, grow old and die and you will be Alone at the End of Days."
Panic swept through Khimarael's mind and body. "A-alone? With no chance of returning to your side?" She now began to feel regret at her desire for independence. Angels were nothing without His presence. To be completely cut off... death was a kinder fate.
The Metatron's smile faded, and The Creator spoke once more through His vessel. "None. This is what you wanted, and you shall have it. Gabriel, my son, take this wretch's sword. They are no longer fit to wield it."
Gabriel picked the blade up from the floor, and the pair disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared to Khimarael. She wept, and as she fell asleep, she could still feel the pain of her angelic form being stripped away from her.

Years passed. Her beloved, so close and yet so far, grew old and died, never knowing of her love. Khimarael never gained the courage to pursue her desire. She was merely content to keep watch over the human village, over his sons and daughter as they began their own families. In time, she would be cast out from the village over fears of witchcraft - imagine, a former Angel of the Lord, a witch! But, she supposed, it must have made sense to them. She never aged, for example. She never fell ill, either. Surely, that was some sort of witchcraft at work.
Centuries would come and go. Now going by a shorter version of her angelic name, Khim stopped keeping tabs on her beloved's descendants. She hadn't felt the Creator's presence since that fateful night. She wondered if the other members of the Host ever thought of her, or if she was now used as a cautionary tale - look at what happens to the Angels that fall too much in love with Humanity. Perhaps it was just as well.
One evening, she caught a glimpse of someone whose features she hadn't seen in millennia. Him... it's Him! Her beloved... or, perhaps... a descendant? Old feelings swelled inside of her, ones she hadn't felt in so long. Several lifetimes ago - maybe not for her, but just the same.

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