A story about a fallen angel and his quest for redemption.
Aidan closed his eyes, leaning his head against the stone wall that ran alongside the churchyard in the small Donegal village. He knew he had little time before he would have to move on from his resting place. He wasn’t physically tired. That weakness was for mankind. His weariness was of a different nature entirely. His whole being bore a heaviness that could only be understood by those who shared its weight.
He struggled to recall the days before his descent—his exile—to Earth. It was only when he closed his eyes that he could visualize the holy city he had fallen from. His memory seemed to be failing him throughout the centuries. It was becoming more difficult for Aidan to see the place of his creation, even in his mind’s eye. Sighing with heaviness, he lifted himself off the cold ground bordering the old church. He longed to step foot inside the place of worship, but he dared not. It evoked too much pain and regret.
What’s done is done, he muttered to himself. Redemption was impossible, no matter how much it was coveted. He was on the run now, not from the Creator this time, but from the one who was responsible for his demise—Lucifer, the former bearer of light. But this time, he had a plan. He wasn’t fool enough to think he had any chance of being restored to his former state in heaven, but he did have an idea as to how he could get a part of himself back into the holy kingdom.
Aidan had struggled to recall to his memory the days of old, when his kind had taken humans as their brides. They had reproduced themselves, passing on their strengths to these half-human, half-demon offspring. If this could be done again, Aidan would have the chance to right part of the wrong he had committed. If he could produce a child that was half man, that child would have the possibility of redemption that he himself lacked. It was the closest thing to redemption for Aidan. He knew that he would be cast into the fires of perdition after the final judgment. He knew that was the price he would pay for his betrayal. But if he could produce something good, something that was capable of receiving grace and mercy, it would soothe the grievous pangs that constantly plagued him.
What he desired had not been attempted for centuries. The first of his kind who had attempted the crossing of humans and demons had been quite successful. After a few centuries, however, humans had become weaker in body. The Creator began to reduce the number of their days upon the Earth. The hybridized humans had become too plentiful. They were becoming a problem to the pureblooded humans. Violence and bloodshed flooded the Earth, so God sent his flood to fix the problem.
After a few generations, Lucifer had decided to put an end to the crossing of bloodlines, altogether. He feared creating more nephilim might bring his destruction closer. Any demons caught mating with humans were bound in chains and thrown into the pit. If humans could no longer see demons or their offspring, how could they believe in a higher power? Producing the nephilim had fallen by the wayside, and Aidan wasn’t sure his attempt would work. It would take a physically and emotionally strong human to carry the child to term. He had heard of failed attempts that had ended in the woman being literally ripped open by the baby during its birth.Hewould lose nothing by attempting it, and had everything to gain if he succeeded. It would not be easy. Humans were so altered these days. They had so many connections that kept them secure and out of reach to those like him. They had to be approached subtly—cautiously. They were more easily influenced by small degrees. They trusted the familiar. He would have to become one of them, if only in appearance.
Aidan could sense that his pursuers were not far behind. It was becoming more difficult to evade them. They seemed to sense his anxiety as though it left a scent for them to follow. He must decide now where he would run next, where he would attempt this seemingly impossible task. Something inside Aidan whispered the wordAmerica, as a westerly wind began to blow.