Page 1 of Architecti
1
Architecti
Aeons ago, or maybe right now?
Angels are supposed to be divine.
That’s what the mortals think, and there are certain connotations, implications and presumptions that come with that.
Unfortunately, it is also what the demons assumed.
We have disappointed everyone.
Yet, angels are not gods, and as much as we are born with celestial blood flowing in our veins, we hold mortal hearts—metaphorically speaking, of course.
I rather think it unfair that these assumptions have been placed on us.We’re all spinning on this universal plane trying to do our best.I certainly was.
Am?
It’s confusing.
Everything is jumbled now, but I want to explain.I need to, so that you understand that what happens next is for the best.
Some angels are born good—innately birthed to bestow light and love and creativity, and some are born of destruction.
And once in a celestial blue moon, you’ll find twins.
Such a fascinating phenomenon, twins.Theoretically identical, but so often they manifest in such tragically different ways.
I was a twin.
I was supposed to be the good one and truly, I thought I was.Either the gods have forsaken me, or my twin is far, far more dangerous than I realised.
I know what they say about me—that I wanted to rule the underworld, that I caused massacres and killed thousands.
It’s not true.
It wasn’t.
Maybe it still isn’t.
Or, at least, I don’t think it is.It’s all bewildering now.Jumbled and messy.
If I tell you my story, maybe you’ll understand.Maybe you’ll see the truth.
Someone’s lying to you.
Someone is lying to all of us.
2
Midnight
Three Hundred and Sixty-Five Days Left
Last birthdays are meant to be filled with equal parts wrinkled people weathered by decades of friendship, and disinterested youths three generations down from your tired-ass genetics.
They are not meant to be in your twenty-ninth year, with a libido raging hard enough to euthanise an entire necromantic nunnery.
