Shamiel

Two forms of the same story.
I personally prefer the second incantatory version but had to put in the first to show you whence it came.
The second is up for a more thorough edit still to come with the help of the one who inspired the form, member davidm.
Thanks and hope you enjoy.

Shamiel
Do not worry. Paradox that it is. For worry is what fuels religion.
Shamiel is a today and is today a tall looking and lounging man with hair the shade of sand at high noon (slightly bleached) and in only the western Deserts.
His eyes have earned their pigment, tint and colour hew, which to most would be sea blue;
as it will reflect what colours it can capture only in your own aura and soul.
He sees and reflects in his ocean the colours of you. But usually endless sea blue because the sea reflects the sky. We are usually blue to his eyes.
He earned his iris and is aware and in care of it at all times.
For the better parts of us all only truly have one iris, I forget"?
"?Even if the magic it takes to house any soul differs in its basic puzzle. Life as a whole only has one iris betwixt itself, all colours of the same rainbow blue'.
Unfortunately not everything that can move in this universe (therefore causing a reaction or rainbow) has life or an iris, and those things without it are dangerous.
Shamiels' firm frame holds a forever-young face which some how looks unbalanced yet eternally yours, about eighteen? he is yet to grow one single hair on his chin.
And may celebrate that hair, if he were ever to grow one? which he would some-how be suited toward? Just the one.
Your own view and reflection of him matters more in his perception than anyone else you will ever meet, including yourself.
He is not vain. "?It is all for you.'
For the past few generations of "?us' he hasn't really noticed you or himself.
But he knows that this story is not really for him so asks us to move on.
It is his family that really matters to this story.
They are the part of what keeps him wandering a smile on this planet.
"?Without the smile you are merely the clown' he is known for saying recently.
Safe within his smile, for them. His family.
The first love of his life was a Woman named Xian. (Pronounce it however it fits but I say it like Shy anne)
She was.
She was sunshine on a cracker. Honey on the Dew. She is gone from him now and he cant even count till forever.
Forever apart?
"?She invented eiderdown.'
His first love was just that, you only ever have one first first or first invention.
It had already been a good four thousand cycles of the sun. Call it years.
He had been alone, singular, since his loneliness begun.
He had not looked up from the dirt for very along a long time;
to intent was his view on the green things that grew.
All, then, new things to his sensibility, "?Intention yes, Was (awareness), The (specimen), View (sight), On (attached), The (again, making it Twice), Green (matter), Things (creatures), That (established), Grew (consumed).
Each one new, they grew, collaborated, shed a spark and then go away'
It was a then, Xian fell from the sky and he finally looked up for a moment.
He was in love; Her name was Xian, "?she was' "?this creature' that he was grasping towards.
They first met shortly after Shamiel had spied her and some men climbing the rock face, up to where he was housed.
A crater,
Now only a deep pool, a good kilometre wide of which he had created, once he grounded, where he had landed for the first time had blasted out this deep rock. Count all the craters on the earth, imagine if they had all been created by falling angels.
But with the turn of the wind and redecoration by seismic currents he was now on a shallow cratered mountaintop, so that the snow still settled and the sun still kissed. Seasonal.
A testament to his fall and "?tomb of decent', at which he now called "?lodgings', (his son would later call ground zero).
Over time this his crater had filled with water, which was how he came to know that algae existed.
Xian was still falling, and he still viewed,
Knowing this water he had of course learned how to swim, not necessarily what we would call swimming, (very much like the fish the angels swim, as well as the utterly helpless) strange sight however. Swimming for him has direction and purpose but looks as if he is in difficulty flailing, nothing could be further from the truth, and they the angels love it.
This falling girl was all occurring on one of those days that he was having "?his swim' then that Xian and her folk had come to greet him and appease his anger and wrath upon them.
They had mistaken him for their god. Shamiel has no wrath.
"?And if not their God then one of the "?others'."? They had misguidedly thought and taught their children.
Xian was to be an offering for him and an imagined appetite. Still falling the girl.
He released a slight smile of amazement.
This was not a first for smiles from Shamiel, "?as home-created smiles', and laughter for that matter but with no need for punch line or at the expense of something.
His study from whence he had fallen included many things especially the beauty of flight (also invented in heaven) but many were the birds of the air at that time in his life.
Before this encounter he had actively avoided the noticeable growth the humans had made, that they clung at his mountainside ever so slowly crawling upward. Knowing they were part of the reason for the First War in his home he previously opted to ignore humans.
"?Not kill', for he had only ever killed by mistake and actively avoided the sensation and the ramifications of taking another's life away from it even if it did mean giving it to somewheres else.
"?Denying a existence and growth that could only be god given and never God taking but always God receiving'.
So again he had opted to ignore them, even though they were obviously had been watching him take his all day swim. And the girl was still falling.
He knew very well the lead-part they had played in the reason and adjudications for his present calamity and being stuck on this planet he cannot call home, strangely he did not fear them for this he may hav eeven pitied them.
In fact occasionally he quite fancied them. "?The innocent still falling'
It was only when he heard a scream and turned to look them all, the pushers and the pushed, in the eye did he realise that Xian had been pushed to her death in the pool with him and that as she hit the water was quite obviously as landed on liquid was being pulled under and drowning.
He just bobbed there for a moment, watching with those scientific eyes of his, drinking in all the new sensations that were occurring within him and around him, within and around that same dissecting sight.
The water he was immersed within had changed somehow. He felt warm.
"?Poor creature' he thought with again a sad smile. He smiles a lot.
So feeling for the girls airways he went under to retrieve her floundering flummoxed body.
Once were angels don't need to hold their breath, they have little, and work for what they do have.
He went down and amid the water, when meeting the struggle wrapping her body and pulling her up and forward in to her line of light oxygen and heavy air.
She took a stifled deep steep intake of the air but did not struggle or panic within his calming claiming but only sensational embrace. Not so much with the security of the solid flesh.
Xian allowed her weight to press against his will and wished for weight, only then she allowed a hope for redemption.
She found her own once out of the deep end, once out of the deep foundling her own way to the secluded shore that Shamiel held as his own.,
It was a small inlet where a cave went deep into the side of the mountain, (smoothed out with his found fingers and desire to nest) surrounded on all sides by sheer dark yet smooth rock, no sapient hand could conquer.
Fire was not new to him so a small set of round wet stones was prominent on the pebbly shore in-let.
"?No firewood though', he had not used fire for a long time.
Once were angels don't really feel heat, if they want to feel "?hot' they go into the desert and if they want to feel cold they go to the poles (or remember their loss), well maybe, once upon a time!
She was now standing by the fire circle dripping and familiarising, he watched still bobbing amongst the water, well out of reach.
She removed her grey tabard of strangely delicately woven rough silk. He could see the weft.
"?Strangely fine, New.'
You might think it strange that he was not searching her naked body, don't forget that he was once an angel. Angels thoughts do not go too the sexual, they have rare experience with the body. "?This was law'. Which was what instigated Shamiel's fall. "?Fraternisation'
No, his interest was with her garments and inventions thus proving as a people they were moving faster than he might have imagined or credited.
"?They were able to weave, A scientific reasoning hmmmmm.'
Her luminescent skin gleamed in his view as she now sought out his eye line and accused him silently with those green opal eyes of hers.
He was in bliss watching her wet straight-line pleated black hair and as she began to unwind it, he was in rapture at the slight yet intricate operation her fingers made as they unwound her long buoyant finely dark hair. He was never to know what this gesture fully meant from "?Her', Xian, at that time. "?It was an unravelling of restriction'.
Shamiel was what the world might call ignorant but he was more than willing and eager to learn.
Xian, seeing that he was not forthcoming and not yet out of her line of sight, shouted, "?Where is my fire, your wife is cold."?
This startled him into action, understanding the three words Fire, Cold and Your (possession).
Not fully understanding what "?Her' or 'wife' actually was, "?friend or foe?' he did remember that these creatures required heat of certain temperatures to survive. "?She was wet and cold.'
Having briefly forgotten his manners (Manners were also born in his homestead).
He was up out of the water in remarkable time and speed of his directed mass and limbs.
With the knowledge that this was at unreasonable swiftness by her sharp but slight gasp! "?this velocity was not of her usual or familiar'. So he toned it down still looking strange and slightly gangly ungainly.
Nor the very water in which his frame was swimming, still imbibed. He looked like a man shaped pool of moving liquid.
He slowed his pace, remembering the movement by which he had viewed these creatures crawl, now for him a little too slowly perhaps?
He had feared more somehow?
He had not taken particular interest in these people for sizable human amounts of years. This lack of knowledge was hindering his "?now' relationship with this new "?Her' 'Your'.
Humans of course have increased their motions as the centuries have gone on, although now-a-days slightly slowing in these their own resent self glorifying years. For some, not all. Some still have to work their entirety to survive.
"?Recession is a consequence not a reward'.
This enlightenment of the people back then was just evening out,
"?there is Time enough today to dream and create-up new gods, and evade the multiplying-monsters with any kind of desperate zealot need to escape the devils no longer chasing in the woods'.
Humans had for the first time truly realised that there was safety in abundance.
Xian was now Seeing with her eyes that this human sketch before her, held what was only moving and flowing clear liquid, "?no wave or resistance"? she again gasped as her fear was found.
Shamiel looking down at him self saw what was in her eyes and vision and startled fear, and then he running so quickly she would have seen only a blur and then there he is back again to the waters edge completely stationary completely dry.
Xian had registered his touch on her cheek and at that shock she had fallen to the floor in warming but frightened skin, and from the floor she spied him take on flesh and that she knew this flesh was her own, "?some how, you?"?
What a beautiful flesh he is now wearing.
He was beautiful; he was her, sort of soft of.
As she lost consciousness she remembered later a rush of wind on her cheek bones as he had caught her weight before she collapsed to the ground fully with bump.
Not allowing for her head to hit the shore.
Xian was out. Unconscious. But being warmed.
She did not remember the dream.
She remembered waking to the warm glow and pressure that fire gives so generously.
She was not yet dressed but warm none the less, wrapped in dry soft leaf matter, the likes of which she had never known.
She saw him near by crying.
Humans the creators of tears.
And as her mind went out to try to soothe him he turned and the biggest and the most welcoming smile she had ever known, greeted her.
Dry cheeks because this angel had not yet learned to cry salt and water.
"?Wow this now man is beautiful and fresh as babies."? (The concept of the infant (needing protection and guidance) was too born in his home)
For some reason the needed embrace between these two and both was halted by some invisible sense.
Pride.
And not from him.
"?Please not from either"?, she wished, now left regretting that she was ever afraid.
This in-self evident human nature, Pride.
Pride is a great factor in keeping individuals together. As a collective.
Shamiel fortunately had encountered it before, (in less basic form) so he was not offended, (if a once-was angel can ever really be offended?).
He was now watching with bright and yes, happy eyes, that mirrored hers not quite completely for they were without colour as of yet.
She was not afraid any more.
Hoorah!
So that is exactly what they did for the next three hours, they watched and learned each other.
It was she, to speak first (of course, all women do) her body audibly gnarled and that meant she was hungry.
"?Her truly unafraid if her body was hungry.'
He being with manners offered her his slight food, with all hands and all smiles. Which food to his appetite were nothing more than a reminder of the food from his home, mainly aromatic seeds and a few nuts.
"?No this will not do, she requires more inward warmth'.
Shamiel was smitten with.
He had noticed well enough the need for her kind to take sustenance from the hot dead flesh of other living creatures.
"?The flesh of the fruit is what made them shame' I was once taught.
Flesh to him was no more or less than a fashion, and whether or not you might be able to wear such things? "?doing o k so far."? Pride.
But the eating of flesh also was needed by other modes of transportation to be led to its death.
Death Shamiel was not adverse too "?as all creation feeds or is fed upon' he once heard by an unreliable source, so he still had not sampled meat of the sentient for himself.
He knew that humans "?ate fish' and he had abundance, as he had brought a few species here to his crater "?all by him self', to his pool. "?Which was no longer just his'?
Where his fish were comfortable.
"?They were a fair company and good study.'
He went too it, caught one as quick as that and offered it to her.
Standing no more or less than ten feet from her longest reach.
"?Throwing the fish at her, still from that bank."? Her interest was not just piquing, it was achieving multiples.
She was spell bound at his every motion and to see him fish was a miracle in motion.
"?Right there in front of you"?.
She was spellbound and he didn't have time to notice.
He had beamed yet another laughing excited smile that just could not sit still on his newly fashioned face as he "?handed the fish' over to her and she highly stimulated began efficiently to prepare the fish for consumption.
"?The miracles these creature can work with their slightest fingertip'
Put it this way, he had abandoned all interest in the study of fish.
He watched with wide eyes and many questions as she sat down to eat the fish.
He was stunned. "?Over so quickly'
The fire was playing its dance in front of her.
Once she had finished she turned to him and said "?thank you"? and gave him a slight bow from the hips. She was now wearing her fully dry clothing and was glad for it and the still dry and now insulating leaf matter under her feet.
She had lost two socks like silk shoes in the water, which he had also gathered and dried for her by the fire while she ate. All her clothing was grey, but the definite colour of grey.
He still to this current day has one of those socks, just one as the other was never his.
He was still naked and it had not even dawned on him that this might have made her uncomfortable, which she was not.
Time passed and then more time passed, she slept he woke.
For some reason neither of them had bothered to explain that she was an offering toward him, for him to bestow blessings on the people living at the base of his mountain. The people who had thrown her at him and then fled.
It just did not come into conversation that she was his possession, if they had many conversations?
If Shamiel had been enlightened to the thoughts of shame he would have been shocked and appalled with his naked self. Thankfully he simply accepted that "?she was there With him' and "?he was there with her' most pleased with that situation.
Naked or not.
He was captive.
There is a funny kind of magic that plays the air around any sacrifice, which was exactly what she was. Make no bones about it.
She was a sacrifice that, he was more than happy to "?for-now', plays along with.
It just simply did not occur to him to ask if she wanted to leave.
And then when it did was afraid of the answer. So simply decided not to ask.
In the ensuing months they taught each other many things and had started into motion that which would have deep impact upon the face of this planet.
More impact than is even fully realised by all involved to this very day, most still in the dark and one not looking for light and one desperate for it.
Xian taught Shamiel everything there was to know about food preparation for her and her people, From cooking meats to preparing pulses. He would go on errands for her, she would ask and he would do as was needed, he did not mind.
She picked up on this compliancy very quickly (maybe just a little to much).
He would gather firewood at least twice a day. With just a few leaps and bounds on to the walls and always in specific areas he would exit the crater.
There had been no sight or sound of the people who had thrown this woman into his new arms.
He did not care, "?he had company'.
And he is always the perfect host, within his capacity and varied capabilities.
He often will have something that you have needed all your life but no cutlery.
He had not spoken to another creature apart from his fish for at least a century, and fish don't talk very much. Just before they die of course, as most living thing do, everything makes one word when it dies, everything.
The now established couple lived together for nearly a year before he started to talk her vocal language. Everything that had come before was in motions and the slightest of body movement and or facial expressions and huffs of air.
He learnt very quickly the human language, "?without reading her mind' all of the time. Human is a very lengthy language to learn and still continues to grow.
He thought that he had mastered it when one day he noticed that she was crying and this disturbed him with ferocity.
To see her entire frame crippled by an almost invisible emotion.
He would have screamed if he knew what that was in human terms.
He felt like singing the saddest and most high-pitched song he had ever conceived "?home created the song, or the tone not both' he was trying to hide.
He wanted to run, to cover, to get away from this bereft conscious objector in front of him, "?crippled', he was in a world of crap, invaded by the thing the angel fears the most. The damned Paradox.
Angels have only ever cried in grief since man was born. Paradox.
All creatures breathed of the Most High indirectly must be ignorant in at least one thing. For angels (even "?once were' angels) it is the "?Damned Paradox',
to us the human-emotion.
He was in deep trouble at watching this human he loved so, weep so vigorously and it was then the young woman had noticed this spasmodic of himself crumpling into him self, "?ruin of the god watched day after day"?. Her sobs were halted as she followed his crumbling and shuddering fall.
She had regarded them as married up until this moment.
Her grief and outpouring had triggered something terrible to behold in him.
She was filled with ever fresh harsh fear as she saw this protector of hers for the past 13 moons crash.
She was now in open-mouthed sheer fear at what had become of her husband. He was completely aflame and writhing now on the wet beach,
That was his home as well as hers. Panic!
He was in expressionless pain that was burning what must have been his true form fighting to free its pain from deep within, "?pain eating through all as its fights to get out'. All of his flesh was burning. He was on fire and not a happy looking fire.
The vacant pain that shone from his strange eyes, she had never dared before this moment to seek out and find his soul in the depths of those eyes.
He had absolutely no pigment as she searched for his irises.
She then caught what she knew to be his soul and remembering in a flash that he had touched her very briefly before when they had first met.
"?He touched you,"? as quickly as a heart beats when in danger (it stops, by the way) she was atop him, grabbing for his face with her hands. "?For his cheeks"?
On top of the amongst the flame.
No concern at all for the instinct in her to "?not play with fire"?.
Atop him, astride him, inside him, his hands were of no threat as she fell into his embrace, she even wrapped her legs tightly around what was now a scrambling pet.
He was never of danger to her physically. But it seemed that she was to him.
The fire on his now white perspiring skin was gone.
She had breathed out in relief as his body stilled within her fullest of grappling hugs.
He calmed, he slowed, and he breathed.
He breathed. For the first time. "?Gills?'
Now it was his time to cry. "?All of them.'
He was born that day; he also died for the first time also.
They would never be the same, ever again.
This had been the first time for them both.
They just held one another for "?not long enough"?, when it came for them to disembark from one another's embrace. They went about as if nothing had happened. "?Only to fall into one another's embrace again and again.
Both now knew a healthy respect for each other's pain, for surety they now both knew the other's pain'.
They went about in different circles for a few days, well aware that a lengthy conversation and expressive was on the horizon.
"?A horizon is an inevitability'. "?A horizon is a destination"?.
They gathered themselves together again and again.
And for the first time he understood the need to be dressed whilst in the company of humans. Not quite shame, but a definite awareness at the polite protocol itself.
Protocol was affirmed up at his home. Besides a chill is more pronounced in your sensitive bits which he now had, sensitivities.
They did not wait for very long after that before they were in each other's arms again, again and even again, "?this time for keeps"?. They were truly husband and wife.
She had instigated the full union but he had finished it.
He was always a quick learner.
There first conversation is their own, and so is their life together, save for one else who came along, his parents were his, therefore so is his parents history.
They made the decision to have a child together.

The incantatory version

Shamiel et Xian
Do not worry. Paradox that it is. For worry fuels religion.

Shamiel is a today and today is a Shamiel.

At a look manly tall and lounging with hair the depth of sand.

Eyes of water.

Eyes that earned their pigment piqued colour and hew,

Most seemingly deep sea crushing blue.

It captures reflections of your coloured light soulfully you.

Usually endless blue, because seas do reflect the skies we all view.

He earned his iris and is aware of it at all times.

For that best part within which is only an iris singular, not always insular.

'Even if the magic it takes to house any soul differs in basic puzzlements, Life has only as only one whole has one iris rainbow you.'

Unfortunately not everything that can move in universal confines will build the bridges of rain but will being without the one iris, will be the shower pain. They are a danger.


Shamiel's firm frame hold s a forever-of-youth face, which somehow some way is askew and an unsteady fixture.

As only the unbalanced will ever be eternally yours and always look eighteen.

He is yet to grow a single hair for his face, and if so being would be suited to just that one hair.

What you make of the sight of him matters more to him that anyone else you will ever know, including yourself.

He is not vain. 'It is all for the you'

For the past few generations of 'us' he has not really been noting you or himself.

He knows this tale is not for him so for you asks to move along.

It is his family that this story be told.

The parts of him that keeps his smile wandering on the world.

'With out a smile you would be called clown' is a saying he likens to say.

Safe smiles saved for his family.

We go to the root of his tree and love of earthly smiles and find there a woman named Xian.

Pronounced by a tongue true Shy-Anne.

She was once upon.

Sunshine on the petal, a honeying drop of dew. (dewing drop of honey)

He has spent her ever after.

Gone from each other now and Shamiel cant count the forever.

Apart for the forever foreseeable?

'She invented eiderdown'

His first love was just that, an original invention, the first of firsts.

It has been a creeping four thousand turns of the sun. Call them years.

He has been alone since his loneliness begun.

In these years has not glanced from up of the dirt for very long.

To intent wa shis view on the green things that grew.

All then, new things to his sensibility,
'Intention yes, The (specimen), View (sight), Was (awareness), On (locked), The (again, making it used), Green (matter), Things (creations), That, (established), Grew (consumed).

Each one new, they came they grew, shed the spark, turning old then depart.

He had spied while looking down some men and a woman bound climbing the rock upon his home.

It was one day then, Xian fell from the sky and he finally looked up for a moment.

He was in love; with the falling girl, her name was Xian.

To this his house, a crater round.

Now only a deep pool a small mile wide, which he had made when into earth he did collide.

It was where he and landed and crust had been found and been blasted out.

Count the craters on earth, each made by a angel fallen finding ground.

With the turn of wind and seismic redecoration a shallow cratered mountaintop,

So the sun still kisses and snow can land.

Seasonal.

A testament to his fall, 'tomb of decent'. 'Lodgings' to try and make fond.

Children will give their home fresh names.

Over time this his crater had filled with rain frozen and evaporated.

Knowing these waters he had learned to swim, not what a man would see as swimming but on the surface the look of paddling and water flapping.

The angels swim like fish, because fish are the best swimmers.

He with his 'limbs' flails and flounders but can out length any man, as angels, even once were angels love to swim.

The falling girl.

On a day when a swim was being occasioned by him.

A girl pushed over the edge to appease an imagined appetite or bribe a fates control, to quench an anger.

They had mistaken him for their devil or God. Shamiel has no guile or wrath.

"And if not their God, then someone else's" They had misguidedly thought and taught.

Xian was to be an offering for him and an imagined stomach ache.

A clean sacrifice or dirty victim the girl fell.

Watching with out warrant he smiled slight short of an amazement.

This was not a first smile for Shamiel but was a first smile for humans.

'Home created smiling' Pass time or not, it is a worthy way to spend ones time.

Heaven taught magic and laughter to man.

His study from whence he came had included many things especially flight.

'This girl is not a bird, and girls don't usually know how to fly'

Before this encounter he had actively avoided but could not ever shun these humans growing like his green matter at the base of his mountain-top shelter.

He did not damn man for the war that happened in their name and was the untold reason for his expulsion, so had chosen the path of denial of their presence.

'Never kill' for he had only ever killed by mistake by crushing underfoot a sapling or beetle, which he had always become solemn for. Knowing in all his fibres 'Never kill'.

But did this mean he must always save?

Yes, 'Never kill, always save'. 'All growth is God given' Shamiel misses his Father terrifyingly so.

So he had always opted to ignore the human growth but to do no harm,

He had caught sight of them sometimes watching him swim and now they spied to see what he might do about a girl falling.

And the girl was still falling.

Did he condemn man and this girl for his calamity of being matter bound and not able to call it home?

No he strangely had no fear of them so found no reason to condemn them, he may have slightly pitied them.

In fact more and more he found he was in fancy of them even thought they were not of his interest to study.

It was at this thought he heard a scream and turned to face the whole situation of a falling scared girl.

He faced the pushers and they ran from his stare.

In the eye he saw Xian had been pushed towards a death in a deep pool.

She could not land on liquid only he knew how to do this and had shown it to no-one.

He bobbed for a moment, measuring with the technical eyes of his.

Drinking in all new sensation and occurrence.

All dissected but un-discriminated by a fallen angels senses.

The water he was within had changed somehow. He felt warm.

'Poor creature' he thought with a sad shake of a smile. He smiles at everything.

So feeling sorry for the girls airways he went under to retrieve her floundering flummoxed body.

Angles, once were or not, need not breath though it can still be caught.

Amid the water he met the girl and her body there, and with this meeting wrapped and pulled her forward into her line of light oxygen and heavy air.

Part the second;

She was out enough of the pool to grasp at the air with a stifled deep steep intook breath.

She did not struggle or panic within his calming but only sensational embrace.

Without the security of solid flesh holding her it is wonder her senses did not reel and run to hide.

Xian allowed and allotted her weight against his will and only briefly wished for weight, only then daring a hope of redemption.

She found her own once out of the deep end, once out of the deep foundling her way to the secluded shore that had only alone ever been for Shamiel.

The shore was a small inlet where a cave have been polished deeply into the side of the mountain, having been smoothed out with fond fingers and a desire to nest.

The cave was surrounded on all sides by sheer dark yet glacier shining rock no sapient hand could have conquered.

Fire was not new to Shamiel and a small set of round stones lay where once on occasion a fire could be housed on the pebbly shore in-let.

'No firewood' he had not used fire for a long time.

Once were angels don't really feel heat, if they wish to 'feel' hot they go into the deserts and if they want to 'feel' cold they go to the poles or remember their loss.

Xian the girl was standing by this fire circle dripping and familiarising. He watched her from still inside the waters.

Well out of reach, not near enough to be caught.

She removed her grey ta-bard of strange to Shamiels vision delicately woven rough silk. He could inspect the weft from there and was amazed.

'Strangely fine, New'

You might think it odd that he was not interested in her naked body, but he was once an angel, what interest would an angel have in the flesh.

They have rare experience with the body. 'This 'was' law' Which was what instigated the Fall of Shamiel and half of heaven.
'Fraternisation'.

No his inspection was of her garments and the inventiveness and was a proof to Shamiel that people were crawling faster than he might have credited.

'Able to weave, A 'scientific' reasoning' He was hmmmming.

Her luminescent skin did draw him for a moment as she sought out his eye line and accused him silently with the clearest green opal eyes he had ever been shocked with.

Now these eyes he wished to get a closer look at.

Inspection and silent accusation.

He became blissful as he watched her wet straight pleated black hair drip and as she began to unwind it he was in rapture of the intricate operations of her fingers.

He was for a long time never to know what this gesture fully meant from 'Her' Xian at that time. 'It was an unravelling of bonds and confinements'

Shamiel is what the world might call ignorant but only in that he does not know, not that he is not most eager to learn.

Xian, seeing that he was not forthcoming and not finished being inspected, shouted "Where is the fire, your wife is cold"

This startled him into action, understanding the three important words, Fire, Cold, and Your.

She was his or he was her possession. Shamiel had never had or been one before this day.

Not fully understanding what 'Her' or 'wife' was or was not, 'friend or foe?'.

But knowing these creatures needed heat of certain temperatures to survive he knew he must remedy this.

'She is wet and cold'

As quick as a flash he was out of the water ready for duty, realising it was not usual to be so fast by the quick intake of breath of his company in seeing him move so.

So he purposefully slowed his movements to suit here breathing.

But he had not fully realised what it was that caused the gasp which was that his whole body was still imbued with liquid and that he looked like a man shaped pool of solid water.

Not having had taken much interest in these people for so long, his lack of knowledge of the human was hindering his 'now' relationship with this new 'Her' 'Your'.

Part the Third;

Humans have with more than their hands increased there movements as the centuries have gone along.

But at present things seem to slow while humans find more time to glorify themselves. The slow glory.

But this is for the sum part not for the all. Parts still must work and slave for any of the all to be able to play. Bad game.

'Recession is a consequence not a reward' There is still room for human renewal.

The enlightenments of the people in that this then time was just evening out as time does that this then evening.

'There is Time today enough to dream and call-up good new gods and cancel-out the multiplying old monsters'.

'There are no more woods for the devils or zealot hunters to stalk or run'

Humans having then realised true safety is in their abundance and were just then starting to collect.

Xian was now Seeing with more than her eyes that the human sketch of Shamiel in front of her was only clear following liquid.

"no wave resistance"

She again gasped as another fear found her.

Shamiel looked down upon 'him' self with her visions in mind and fear in heart and was resolved to change her mind and heal her heart.

Running to her so quickly she would only have seen a blur of fluid and then there he was standing back at the waters edge.

Completely stationary completely dry.

Xian in this single moments movement had registered a touch upon her cheek and at this shock she had fallen to the floor with warming but frightened skin.

And from the floor she spied him take on flesh.

But not just any flesh, this flesh was her own, "some how, you?"

What a beautiful and clean flesh he is now wearing.

He was she was beautiful, sort of soft of.

As she lost consciousness she would remember later a rush of wind on her high cheek bones as he had caught her head before it had had time to bump to the floor.

Xian was out. Unconscious. Being warmed.

She would not remember the dream.

She did however remember waking to the warm glow and pressure pleasure that fire gives so generously.

She was not yet dressed but warm none the less, wrapped in dry soft leafy matter, the likes of which she wished she had known.

She saw him nearby sobbing.

Humans the creators of tears.

And as her compassion filled mind went out to try and soothe him, he turned, and there exploded the biggest most welcoming smile she had ever known was just for her.

His cheeks were always dry because this angel had not yet learned to shed salt and water from water made eyes.

"WoW this now 'man' is beautiful and fresh as new born"

The reason for the halting of the needed first embrace between the two was an invisible divide and sense.

Pride.

And not from 'him'.

"Please not from either" she wished hard, now left regretting she had ever been afraid.

This in-self evident human nature, Pride.

The regret of such as pride does not make it any more bearable.

Pride keeps individuals together in regret. But still as a collective.

Shamiel fortunately (for her) had encountered it before in a less basic form, so was not offended. If a felled angel can ever really find offence?

He was watching her with bright and happy eyes, that mirrored hers but not quite for they were entirely without colour.

Eyes of White.

Xian was not afraid any more.

Hip Hip Hoorah!

So what they did for the next three hours exactly was to celebrated, watched and learned each other.

Both celebrating, watching and learning with their own new eyes to do so, one set with out fear, one set without a stare.

It was she to speak first, all women must, and it was an audible gnarl of a bodily sound and word, which said "hungry".

He being with understanding and manner offered her with all hands and smiles his slight 'food'.

Which 'food' to his appetite or longings were nothing more or less than a reminder of the tastes of home, the aromatic seed and lichen, perhaps a few mythic nuts.

'No, this will not do, she requires more inward warming'

Shamiel was smitten with.

He had noticed well enough the need of her kind to take sustenance from the hot or cold dead flesh of other once were living creatures.

'The fruit of the flesh is what had made of them shame' I was once taught.

Flesh for him and his kind had only ever been an accessory and whether or not to wear or remove such things.

"doing okay so far" Pride.

The consuming of flesh was needed by other modes or fashions of transport for the transforming of life to death to be led and leading.

Death Shamiel was not adverse too 'all creation feeds or is fed' he had once heard from from an unreliable source.

And the source being unreliable he had no notion to sample the meat of sentience himself.

He knew humans 'eat fish' and fish Shamiel has in abundance.

He had lifted some particular species here to his crater 'all by him self' here to this his pool.

He owns nothing but what he has ever made and this he still gives away.

'The fish and pool not now just his?'

His fish he had always made comfortable.

'A fair company and good study'

He went too it, caught one as quick as that but was silently shocked that they now ran from him.

He was a master of his new body, what he had not reckoned was that his new body was also a master of him.

Standing with fish in hand no more or less than ten feet from her longest reach.

"Throwing a fish at her, still from the bank" He interest was not just piquing it was achieving multiplication.

Xian was spell bound and did not have time to notice the bewitchment.

He had beamed over to her yet another laughing excited smile that just could not sit still on his newly fashioned face.

Once he had 'handed the fish' over to her and she also highly stimulated began to prepare the fish for consumption.

'The meek miracles these creatures can work with their slightest finger tip'

Miracles such as swift death to a fish to appease a humans hunger-life.

Put simply, Shamiel had abandoned all interest in the study of fish.

Part the fourth;

Shamiel watched with wide gaze and many questions as Xian sat down to eat the fish.

He was stunned. 'Over so quickly'.

The fire was playing its dance in front of her.

Once she had finished she turned to him and said "thank you" accompanied with a slight bow from the hips.

She was now wearing her fully dry clothing and was glad of its wrap.

Also still glad of the still dry and insulating leaf matter under foot.

She had lost in the fall and water two sock like shoes made also of silk, which he had gathered and dried by the open fire while she ate.

All of her wear was grey, but the definite colour of grey.

Shamiel still to this current day is possessed of one of those silk socks, only one because the other was never his.

He was still naked and had not dawned that this might have made her uncomfortable, which it did not.

Time passed and then time passed again, she slept he woke.
(Time passed and then again passed time)

For some reason neither of them had taken the time to explain that she was an offering to him, a bribe for him to bestow tidings on the people below. The people who had thrown her at him and then fled at the sight.

It just did not come into inflection that she was his possession, if they had in these early days many inflective conversives.

If Shamiel had been enlightened to the thoughts or moods of shame he would have been shocked and appalled with hi snaked self.

Thankfully gratefully he simply accepted 'Her was there With him' and 'he there with Her', most pleased was he with the situation.

Naked or not, he was pleased to be pleasing. (but not pleasing to be pleased)

He was captive.

There is a funny kind of magic that plays the air around any sacrifice, which was exactly what Xian was. No bones, Sacrifice.

A sacrifice that, he was more than happy to 'for just now?' go along with.

It simply did not occur to him to enquire if she would prefer to leave.

And then later the day this did occur was so afraid of the answer he hid from her for a week and liking this less then decided not to ask.

She certainly never did.

In the ensuing months that led them they taught each other many things including the names of themselves and names of other things as well, he singing in sign she speaking in kind.

With this personal language they had started into motion that which will have deep impact upon the face of this sad world.

More impact to come than is even fully realised by those involved to this very day in sparing the world from more sadness mad.

Xian taught Shamiel everything there was to teach about food preparation and conservation for her and her people, from the cooking of meats to preparing the pulses.

He would go on errands for her, she would ask and describe until a word fitted his understanding and would do what ever she wished.
(He did not mind)

She picked up on his compliancy very quickly, some might say a little to quickly.

He would gather firewood at least twice daily. With just a few leaps and bounds onto the walls of the crater he would exit and return the same way.

Neither of them were worried the other would not be there on return.

There had been no sight nor sound of the people who had thrown this new woman into his newer arms.

He did not care, 'he had company'

Shamiel is always the perfect host even today with in his capacity and capability.

He often will have something ready that you have needed al your life but no cutlery.

He had not spoken to another creature or being apart from his fish and the birds for at least a century, and fish don't talk very much.

But even fish as with all will still all have the one word everything speaks before they die.

The now established habituated couple lived together for nearly a complete year and season renewal before Shamiel started to speak with his pink tongue.

Everything before this had been with motions of the body and facial effects, huffs of air and gurgles of water.

He picked up the human language very quickly 'without reading minds' all of the time, for what is the point in reading a mind if you cant understand the speaking mind?

Human is a very lengthy language to learn and still continues to grow as the body does.

All thoughts of a mastery were shattered the day he came home to find Xian there crying.

Part the final;

Her tears were falling and this disturbed him with ferocity.

To see her entire frame crippled by an invisible force of emotion.

He would have screamed had he known in human terms what that was.

He felt for a song of sadness to sing of the highest pitch or lowest tone he had ever conceived.

'Home created the song or the tone, not both' he was trying to hide.

He wanted to run, to cover, to get away from this bereft conscious objection in front of him, 'crippled', he was in a world of crap.

Invaded by the thing the angel fears the most. The damned Paradox.

Angels have only ever cried in grief since man was born. Paradox.

All creatures and beings breathed of the Most High indirectly must be ignorant in at least one thing.

For angels, even once were, it is the 'Damned Paradox', this goe ssome way to explaining why the angel can only be good or 'evil'.

Good and evil. Human emotion.

Shamiel was in deep trouble at witnessing this human he loved so deep, weep so vigorously.

It was then that the young woman had noticed this spasmoditism of a self crumpling in to its self "you ruin of the god watched day after day".

Her sobs were ceased as she followed his crumbling and shuddering fall (collapse).

She had regarded them as married up until this moment.

Her brief grief and outpouring had triggered something terrible in him.

She was filled with ever fresh panic and fear as she saw this protector of hers of the past 13 moons crash.

Xian was now in gaping-mouthed sheer fear at what had become of her husband.

Shamiel now completely aflame.

Afire and writhing in visible agony on the wet shore.

"where's home, where's home" Panic.

He was in expressionless pain that was burning the gifted flesh and something more.

It was burning his '"true"' form fighting to free or kill its self from deep with in.

'Pain eating through all as it fights to get out and away'.

All of his self was burning inside and out.

The fire was unhappy.

The vacant torture that blistered from his melting eyes, before this never dared seek his soul there were screaming "for her".

She had no choice now but to search him entirely for this soul of his.

No pigment as she sought his stare.

She then caught it, she caught his soul and remembered in a flash and crackle that he had once touched her ever so briefly to become more a man "for her".

"He touched you" as quickly as a heart beats in flight of danger she was atop him.

Grabbing for his face with her hands "For his cheeks" "For his cheeks".

Xian atop amongst amid the flame.

No concern at all for the instinct in any to 'not play with fire'.

Atop him, astrid ehim, inside him, every part she could reach and feel and touch she was doing so.

His hands were of no threat as she fell into his embrace, she wrapped her legs tightly around what was now a scrambling pet.

He was never of danger to her physically. But it seemed she was a danger to him.

The fire on his now moist skin was gone. As was it from his heart. Gone.

She had breathed out in relief as his body stilled and calmed with in her fullest of grappling huggings.

He calmed, he slowed, and he breathed.

He breathed. For the very first time. 'Gills?'

Now it was his time to cry. 'All of them'.

Shamiel was born that day; he also died for the first time as well.

They would never be the same again, ever never the same again.

This had been the first time for them both.

They just lay there holding each other for '"not long enough"'.

It finally came time for them to disembark from one another's embrace.

They went about as if nothing had happened at first.

Not speaking.

Only to fall into one another's arms and hold again and again.

Both now knew a healthy respect for each others pain, for surety they both now knew the other's pain.

They went about in differing circles for a few days, well aware a lengthy conversation and expressive was on the horizon.

'A horizon is an inevitable meeting place' "A horizon is a journey's destination".

They gathered themselves together again and again forgetting the words.

And for the first time Shamiel understood the need to be clothed whilst in the company of humans.

Not quite shame he felt, but a definite awareness at the 'polite' protocol of clothing.

Protocol was a heavenly institution.

Besides a chill was now pronounced and made him aware he had part more sensitive than the rest.

He now had sensitivities.

They did now wait for long after that again to be in each others arms.

"This time is for keeps". They were truly made husband and wife.

She had instigated the full union but he had finished it.

He was always a quick learner.

Their first conversation is their own.

And so is their life together until another was founded to share their story and life.

Shamiel and Xian were a unit. A family.

And families grow.

0(et Alexian)

the end,

I hope you liked it.
Any criticism and comments welcome.
Thanks have a great day or night.
sometime sun