The Prisoner of Light

Where there once could have been hope, there was only darkness. He was alone in the bottomless abyss with the soul-numbing cold and the ever-present pain as his only companions. The bladed chains suspended him in the lake of tears so that all he could ever see were the limitless depths below, completely isolated from everyone and everything. The chains constantly slithered over his form, biting and tearing at his body like teeth cutting into his precious wings, leaving fresh burns that would heal only to be reopened. The cold did nothing to numb the searing chains and the two opposing sensations, instead of fighting against each other, came together to create an unholy symphony of cries and screams as the prisoner vainly struggled to break free. Every time he opened his mouth, the water would flow into him and threaten to drown him, but his miserable existence never came to an end. “Father!” the seraph cried out in vain. Moments were stretched into cruel eternities. What seemed like a thousand millennia in his suffering was only a heartbeat in the world beyond the lake of sin. Despite the time that passed, he never grew accustomed to his agony and every wound was as fresh as the moment he was first cast into this hell. “Set me free!” he begged ceaselessly. The prisoner’s body glowed dimly in the darkness, a mere shadow of his former magnificence. His brilliant golden hair was twisted into knots and his six wings almost completely ceased to shine. What were once so brightly illuminated by his love and praise that they surpassed the sun were little more than embers from his seething despair. “I know you can see me!” His once beautiful voice that was as soft as a thousand harps in perfect harmony was twisted into an unrelenting scream by the endless torture. He once sang as the stars were set in the heavens but now he begged with all his heart for his torture to end. He pleaded for his life to come to an end but no one answered. He prayed for the sword of judgment to fall and awaited the end of all. “I know you can hear me, yet you remain silent!” In his once loving heart grew a wrath like no other and his very nature had become twisted. He was an agent of the darkness born of the Holiest Light. He was a personification of both life and death, desiring release but more than even that, vengeance. “You suffer with me! Do not pretend that you ceased to care!” His punishment was the greatest ever conceived, to be in the warm light of paradise and cast into the chilling darkness. He was infinitely far away from the heavens, yet he was so close that he sometimes had delusions of holy light filtering from above. “What father turns away when his child is begging for forgiveness?” he asked. “Call us all back to your side!” He cursed the one that cast him into the pit. Was what he did so wrong that he deserved such a fate? Was it so fair that he was created with such thoughts? He loved his father and all his brothers above all else. Why then did his father allow the war to progress? Was his children’s love not enough for him? “We both know what I will do if you deny me!” the prisoner threatened in a futile attempt to commune with the one that crippled him with not even a wave of a hand. Many of his brothers were with him in the abyss. They, like he, saw fault where the others claimed there was none. He could not see them in the ceaseless darkness but he knew they were there somewhere, crying out for freedom. “I will escape! Have no doubt, I will be free and when I am, I shall seek you no longer!” He only saw brief glimpses of the greatest one of them all. Deeper than any of the others laid their master, the great king of Pandemonium. The prisoner could see the occasional movement of some vast and ancient shape reaching out from the depths only to be dragged back into the cold. “I will take back my words of penance and you will lose me forever!” The prisoner’s power, though diminished, could still reach beyond his prison into world outside. He projected his voice into the thoughts of mortals and reached out his hand to touch the lives of those that might understand his pain, hoping to form an unbreakable bond with one that would be willing carry his pain. He watched throughout the eternities as countless lives passed in and out of his vision: a child betrayed and beaten by his drunken mother, a soldier returning from war only to lose his wife to another man, a girl longing to escape from her confinement and explore the wide world. All those people he tried to commune with in some way. He was the rapid heartbeat of a murderer, the thunder in the storm, the prince of a little girl’s dreams, the whispering in the dark. There were countless conditions required for his release and many had he fulfilled. One of the last and possibly the greatest or least of his tasks was that he must find one that would accept him in the world beyond, a partner that could look into his eyes and perform miracles with him. His words barely ever reached the hearts of mortals, but when they did and the person turned to look back, he became as relentless in his pursuit as his torment. He needed someone to aid him, someone to love him as he loved, and someone who would selflessly forgo what he or she loved most for his sake. All he needed was one sacrifice, one act of fidelity and he would be free. He could not do much. His once great power was limited by boundaries. Once he could destroy and remake stars. Now, he could only make the flame of a candle flicker or knock on a door only to be vainly answered by his confused quarry. He needed someone who could truly understand the world. He desired one that saw the material plane for what it really was and sought to escape from the cruel reality as he sought to break out of his chains. If he was fortunate, he would find one that listened to his words and returned his feelings but fate would always rob him of chance of escape. The prisoner could not hold back the winds of destruction and many of his potential saviors in the end took their own lives in their despair, too foolish to understand that their pain did not end in death. He tried his best to nurture the bonds he formed with what little knowledge he could convey to them. The bonds often withered and disappeared as his followers abandoned him like those before. He was once able to escape but his beloved betrayed him and sealed the prisoner back in the pit. His despair grew with every failure and he feared that he may never escape his nightmare. His barely contained rage festered with his despair and his hatred towards the fickle mortals became insurmountable. Finally, after over a thousand thousand eternities he felt the chains slacken. Someone heeded his words. He was soon to be free.