Angels are everywhere, everywhere I tell you!!!
Only the faint wavering of the candlelight accompanied Dante in the late hours of the night, the chapel his shelter from the furious storm that threatened the lone streets of Venice. But even the storm remained nothing but a faint distraction from the task at hand for Dante; his paintbrush moving in delicate swishes against the campus that he one-day dreamed would be admired by all of Venice.
"I don't know what you see him, he seems rather boring to me. Painting day after day with those ever so bleak colours Ambrosia", commented a voice boredly shaking Ambrosia rather violently from her trance like state that she had caught herself in when she was admiring over Dante's work.
She turned her azure eyes to Godric, a fellow angel and right at this moment also a very bored one. Every human that had ever walked the earth was blessed with a Guardian Angel, unseen to the mortal eye, but always there. Two of these angels happened to be watching Dante deep in work, Ambrosia deeply (as usual) in love with brilliant colour and grace of his sensual paintings and Godric; well...he was less than impressed.
"I simply don't see why you're so caught up in this mortal habit of painting"; Godric started to say only to see the younger angel drift off once again.
"Have heard the whispers of the street from the human. They believe his some sort of demon because he paints so passionately, not shy to expose the beauty of the mortal body or the sensuality of the lust, his just so-", she trailed off into a sigh, brushing aside a golden curl with ease.
"Talented, passionate, yes, yes I've heard this all before Ambrosia", Godric muttered under his breath only to see the soft snowy wings of Ambrosia quiver with excitement as Dante finally let his paintbrush fall to the ground with a clutter. "His finished".
*
Dante let his paintbrush clutter to the ground, cobalt paint splattering against the marble floor. He heard the thunder crack outside illuminating the room for a second followed by silence.
The painting was possible the most beautiful to ever bless the small chapel, the colours of the sky were like the blues of the sky and the ocean combined, the clearing in which the vivid flowers and tree's melded together like the garden of Eden itself. But possible the most radiant creature to bless the painting was the angel. No one had dared paint before an angel in such a manner as he done, as women sprawled elegantly across the grass, flowers of violets, crimsons and gold's covered around her as cheeky cherubs fluttered above admiring over the naked beauty.
The painting was daring and passionate, to paint an angel as a female in such lustful yet sensual manner was a crime to God himself.
But Dante did not honour God nor Satan, he only honoured the passion and inspiration deep inside him that had lead him to spend the long nights painting to result in this.
*
The angels that stood present in the room were in awe, almost as much as Dante. Even Godric stared in awe for a few long moments, blazing golden eyes wide before stating, "Well, your young mortal painter is quite talented after all", before settling down in one of the pews.
Ambrosia smiled in triumph before settling down next to Godric happily.
*
Beams of sunlight peeked into the room from behind the thick curtains of Dante's room. Finally one of the rays of sunlight settled on his face until Dante uttered a low moan, opening his eyes. His vision was blurry from his long nights but finally he managed to stumble from his small bed looking around the small yet cosy house he occupied.
Dante despite his talents wasn't rich, orphaned as a child, his talents were seen from the majority of Venice as the devil's work. Heaven forbid if anyone seen his latest painting, he'd probably be seen as a witch. Superstition, that's all the medieval age seemed to him and few people were content to accept the coming of a new age as some painters were beginning to call it, the Renaissance.
A loud rapping came at the door suddenly followed by the loud shouts of anger, the anger of the crowd that would soon make him face their wrath. Dante peered out the window, wondering what all the commotion could be about at this early hour. But as he stared out the angry faces and loud, furious voices of the crowd the truth came to him. They had came for him.
*
They had came for Dante, Ambrosia knew it, she could sense it, feel it, she heard the crowd that gathered in the small streets around shout their angry words of vindication and hate about the painting. Oh the painting, so beautiful, how could anyone condemn such a divine thing Ambrosia could not understand.
"I don't understand?" Ambrosia whispered confusion and misery reflecting in her azure eyes as she turned to stare up at Godric. "Don't they understand, don't they see how beautiful is it?" Her only reply was Godric's sad stare and the faint movement of his pallid wings.
*
The door slammed open and Dante found himself grabbed by strong hands, shouts of disgust and animosity feeling his ears, "Demon, servant of Satan,
Witch!"
"What, it's just-", his protests only received scorns and the glares of Venice as he was dragged through the streets until final he saw the looming church over head.
"What, I-", once again he protests were ignored as he was roughly thrown through the front door of the church against the hard stone floor.
Dante's eyes first came upon fine buckled leather boots and next the cold, hard glare of the Minster as he was once again dragged to his feet.
"Minster", the name died at his lips as the Minster's sneer. "Boy, you dare paint a heavenly creature in such a manner, you scorn against God himself", the Minster voice rose to echo around the church walls.
"It's an angel, one of the most beautiful creatures to ever bless this world, they should be painted in any manner I wish", Dante's response received a hard slap across the face as he mind became dazed for a second.
"Take him away guards", the Minster sneered turning to stroll away. "He shall burn at dawn".
*
The ancient oak tree had withstood wind, rain, hail and snow for hundreds of years. But in the early hours of the afternoon when it's tall branches reached up to the clear cobalt sky and the cool shadows basked the two angels from the mid summer heat, it even weeped for the poor angel that cried beneath it.
"It's not fair, why was such a passionate, beautiful person bought into to this world only to be tortured and murdered by those who so crudely claim to honour the beholder, for painting a creature of the divine so beautifully", Ambrosia demanded tearfully to Godric.
"Through pain lessons are learnt by many", offered Godric gently knowing the many lessons of the mortal world were hard for the young ones.
"But it's so cruel to create mortals, only to watch them hurt and suffer and die and be reborn only to watch it happen again and again", the younger angel pleaded to Godric, his convenience of knowing all the answers beginning to irritate her.
The questions from Ambrosia had came all morning and through to the afternoon to Godric. Why did mortals hate, why do angels love but never know hate, why were mortals created to destroy one another? Some Godric could answer, others he could and Ambrosia was seeming to act more and more mortal to him with her endless questions which had surfaced from her misery of the soon to come loss of Dante.
"Why-", started Ambrosia only for Godric to cut her off. "Ambrosia, I do not have all the answers you seek", he said tentatively turning his golden eyes to her. The blond stared up at him, her innocent blue eyes wide, and a few strands of gold flopping in her face giving her an almost girlish look.
After a few minutes of silence came Ambrosia's whisper, "I don't want to be an angel anymore". "What?" Godric gasped in horror wondering how Ambrosia dared to request such a thing. "I don't want to be an angel anymore, I want to be human", the younger angel continued stubbornly her eyes reflecting a deep seriousness. "Why?", Godric asked in an almost stupid manner, still shocked and take back from Ambrosia. "I want to feel like they do, I want to understand them", she replied pushing a lock of blond from her face.
Godric stared down at her wondering how a young one could make such a wise request. "It's not up to me and you know it, I need to ask the divine", Godric explained a hint of sadness filling his voice. "I'll be back, just don't go-", he stopped only to see Ambrosia had disappeared. Now where had she gone?
*
Dante paced through the darkness of the cell slowly watching the sun deep beyond the horizon. He knew they would come for him soon and than after that they would-. He stopped shaking his head, how could religion rule the reasonable logic of so many. It was painting, a beautiful painting and he was to murdered over it, how ridiculous?
Out of the corner of his eyes he seen a flicker of ethereal white, a lock of gold and a flash of round blue eyes only for the image to disappear as quickly.
"Hello?" he paused blinking once, twice and than regaining himself. Just his imagination, the imagination that was about to get him killed, brilliant, just brilliant.
"Hello", echoed a soft voice as the image reoccurred before his eyes. Not an image, an angel, a real angel.
"You're real", Dante choked staring at her, the golden blond curls, the blue eyes, the angel he painted was real. "Yes I'm real but I generally don't lay around in fields of flowers naked", Ambrosia replied with a smile her ivory wings flapping lightly.
"I don't know what you see him, he seems rather boring to me. Painting day after day with those ever so bleak colours Ambrosia", commented a voice boredly shaking Ambrosia rather violently from her trance like state that she had caught herself in when she was admiring over Dante's work.
She turned her azure eyes to Godric, a fellow angel and right at this moment also a very bored one. Every human that had ever walked the earth was blessed with a Guardian Angel, unseen to the mortal eye, but always there. Two of these angels happened to be watching Dante deep in work, Ambrosia deeply (as usual) in love with brilliant colour and grace of his sensual paintings and Godric; well...he was less than impressed.
"I simply don't see why you're so caught up in this mortal habit of painting"; Godric started to say only to see the younger angel drift off once again.
"Have heard the whispers of the street from the human. They believe his some sort of demon because he paints so passionately, not shy to expose the beauty of the mortal body or the sensuality of the lust, his just so-", she trailed off into a sigh, brushing aside a golden curl with ease.
"Talented, passionate, yes, yes I've heard this all before Ambrosia", Godric muttered under his breath only to see the soft snowy wings of Ambrosia quiver with excitement as Dante finally let his paintbrush fall to the ground with a clutter. "His finished".
*
Dante let his paintbrush clutter to the ground, cobalt paint splattering against the marble floor. He heard the thunder crack outside illuminating the room for a second followed by silence.
The painting was possible the most beautiful to ever bless the small chapel, the colours of the sky were like the blues of the sky and the ocean combined, the clearing in which the vivid flowers and tree's melded together like the garden of Eden itself. But possible the most radiant creature to bless the painting was the angel. No one had dared paint before an angel in such a manner as he done, as women sprawled elegantly across the grass, flowers of violets, crimsons and gold's covered around her as cheeky cherubs fluttered above admiring over the naked beauty.
The painting was daring and passionate, to paint an angel as a female in such lustful yet sensual manner was a crime to God himself.
But Dante did not honour God nor Satan, he only honoured the passion and inspiration deep inside him that had lead him to spend the long nights painting to result in this.
*
The angels that stood present in the room were in awe, almost as much as Dante. Even Godric stared in awe for a few long moments, blazing golden eyes wide before stating, "Well, your young mortal painter is quite talented after all", before settling down in one of the pews.
Ambrosia smiled in triumph before settling down next to Godric happily.
*
Beams of sunlight peeked into the room from behind the thick curtains of Dante's room. Finally one of the rays of sunlight settled on his face until Dante uttered a low moan, opening his eyes. His vision was blurry from his long nights but finally he managed to stumble from his small bed looking around the small yet cosy house he occupied.
Dante despite his talents wasn't rich, orphaned as a child, his talents were seen from the majority of Venice as the devil's work. Heaven forbid if anyone seen his latest painting, he'd probably be seen as a witch. Superstition, that's all the medieval age seemed to him and few people were content to accept the coming of a new age as some painters were beginning to call it, the Renaissance.
A loud rapping came at the door suddenly followed by the loud shouts of anger, the anger of the crowd that would soon make him face their wrath. Dante peered out the window, wondering what all the commotion could be about at this early hour. But as he stared out the angry faces and loud, furious voices of the crowd the truth came to him. They had came for him.
*
They had came for Dante, Ambrosia knew it, she could sense it, feel it, she heard the crowd that gathered in the small streets around shout their angry words of vindication and hate about the painting. Oh the painting, so beautiful, how could anyone condemn such a divine thing Ambrosia could not understand.
"I don't understand?" Ambrosia whispered confusion and misery reflecting in her azure eyes as she turned to stare up at Godric. "Don't they understand, don't they see how beautiful is it?" Her only reply was Godric's sad stare and the faint movement of his pallid wings.
*
The door slammed open and Dante found himself grabbed by strong hands, shouts of disgust and animosity feeling his ears, "Demon, servant of Satan,
Witch!"
"What, it's just-", his protests only received scorns and the glares of Venice as he was dragged through the streets until final he saw the looming church over head.
"What, I-", once again he protests were ignored as he was roughly thrown through the front door of the church against the hard stone floor.
Dante's eyes first came upon fine buckled leather boots and next the cold, hard glare of the Minster as he was once again dragged to his feet.
"Minster", the name died at his lips as the Minster's sneer. "Boy, you dare paint a heavenly creature in such a manner, you scorn against God himself", the Minster voice rose to echo around the church walls.
"It's an angel, one of the most beautiful creatures to ever bless this world, they should be painted in any manner I wish", Dante's response received a hard slap across the face as he mind became dazed for a second.
"Take him away guards", the Minster sneered turning to stroll away. "He shall burn at dawn".
*
The ancient oak tree had withstood wind, rain, hail and snow for hundreds of years. But in the early hours of the afternoon when it's tall branches reached up to the clear cobalt sky and the cool shadows basked the two angels from the mid summer heat, it even weeped for the poor angel that cried beneath it.
"It's not fair, why was such a passionate, beautiful person bought into to this world only to be tortured and murdered by those who so crudely claim to honour the beholder, for painting a creature of the divine so beautifully", Ambrosia demanded tearfully to Godric.
"Through pain lessons are learnt by many", offered Godric gently knowing the many lessons of the mortal world were hard for the young ones.
"But it's so cruel to create mortals, only to watch them hurt and suffer and die and be reborn only to watch it happen again and again", the younger angel pleaded to Godric, his convenience of knowing all the answers beginning to irritate her.
The questions from Ambrosia had came all morning and through to the afternoon to Godric. Why did mortals hate, why do angels love but never know hate, why were mortals created to destroy one another? Some Godric could answer, others he could and Ambrosia was seeming to act more and more mortal to him with her endless questions which had surfaced from her misery of the soon to come loss of Dante.
"Why-", started Ambrosia only for Godric to cut her off. "Ambrosia, I do not have all the answers you seek", he said tentatively turning his golden eyes to her. The blond stared up at him, her innocent blue eyes wide, and a few strands of gold flopping in her face giving her an almost girlish look.
After a few minutes of silence came Ambrosia's whisper, "I don't want to be an angel anymore". "What?" Godric gasped in horror wondering how Ambrosia dared to request such a thing. "I don't want to be an angel anymore, I want to be human", the younger angel continued stubbornly her eyes reflecting a deep seriousness. "Why?", Godric asked in an almost stupid manner, still shocked and take back from Ambrosia. "I want to feel like they do, I want to understand them", she replied pushing a lock of blond from her face.
Godric stared down at her wondering how a young one could make such a wise request. "It's not up to me and you know it, I need to ask the divine", Godric explained a hint of sadness filling his voice. "I'll be back, just don't go-", he stopped only to see Ambrosia had disappeared. Now where had she gone?
*
Dante paced through the darkness of the cell slowly watching the sun deep beyond the horizon. He knew they would come for him soon and than after that they would-. He stopped shaking his head, how could religion rule the reasonable logic of so many. It was painting, a beautiful painting and he was to murdered over it, how ridiculous?
Out of the corner of his eyes he seen a flicker of ethereal white, a lock of gold and a flash of round blue eyes only for the image to disappear as quickly.
"Hello?" he paused blinking once, twice and than regaining himself. Just his imagination, the imagination that was about to get him killed, brilliant, just brilliant.
"Hello", echoed a soft voice as the image reoccurred before his eyes. Not an image, an angel, a real angel.
"You're real", Dante choked staring at her, the golden blond curls, the blue eyes, the angel he painted was real. "Yes I'm real but I generally don't lay around in fields of flowers naked", Ambrosia replied with a smile her ivory wings flapping lightly.