Bittersweet Masquerade:
The Ungel of Forgetfulness and the Child of Dawn

It was a dream, only a dream. For who would love a monster. Who would accept that monster into one’s home without fear, without expecting tragedy to strike one down. One does not do such things. So I will say it was a dream. A wonderful dream where love touched one such as me. But like all dreams… it comes to an end--Its memory and gentle moments are quickly forgotten from the awakened mind like sand falling from a broken hourglass.

-------- This is the story of the Ungel of Forgetfulness, he who rules all that is forgotten, lost, and miss-placed. He who remembers such things, when no one else will. He who remembers the sad things, the happy times, the things better left alone, and the things all should never have forgot. He who remembers how it all began…

It was the night of the masquerade, the day when the Lords invited all others in the Land of Lords to a grand ball, and had also extended the invitation to included the Angels. But not the Ungels. Nope, they weren’t invited, for while they too live in the Kingdom of Clouds they lived on the left side of the kingdom where light was filtered and messengers got lost.

But as it so happens, it was on this particular night that the Ungel of that which is Forgotten got lost when going for a walk to get some plum wine from his neighbour that he found himself on the wrong side of the Kingdom of Clouds. Even he does not know how he got there, but he suddenly found himself walking down a path alighted with white cloud-shaped trees, sweet-smelling snow coloured lilacs and sound of joy in the air. While he would have been perfectly happy to have kept walking until he got lost again, as was his habit, this was not meant to be.

A particularly sweet breath of air danced around Forgotten when he found himself face to face with two very serious and grim-faced Angels. Clearly dressed for the Masquerade with bird-like masks in their hands, they closed in on Forgotten with one stepping up so that he was but inches from Forgotten’s face, while the other moved behind Forgotten and crossed his arms.

“What are you doing here?” demanded the angel in his face. Forgotten started to answer how he was used to getting lost and how this was normal, but was interrupted before he could say a word.

“You are not welcome here!” shouted the angel behind him. “Leave.”

Forgotten would leave of course, though he was sad he couldn’t finish being lost, but nonetheless turned to do as they asked. However, as Forgotten left the path and turned back to where he believed would be home, he found himself lost again and walking once more on a strangely familiar path. As he turned past a particularly nice display of silvery lilies he found himself walking bodily into someone who likewise looked familiar, though he couldn’t for the love of him remember who that person was.

The impact of him crashing into the other person was such that he ricocheted off them and fall backwards, landing hard on the ground. The other, who had been more secure of footing, remained standing but made the most anger expression possible.

“I told you to be gone!” yelled the angel. Forgotten looked around confused for a moment, this angel and the one beside him seemed so familiar to Forgotten… had they meet before? “Leave!” bellowed the second angel will such force that Forgotten quickly got up and ran off in fright. He pondered as he ran, wondering why people were so anger with him, but as he ran he noticed a nice tree to rest under and laid down for a short nap.

And a very short nap it was, for Forgotten found himself rudely awaken by a pair of angels who glared at him. While the pair seemed oddly like someone Forgotten had met before, he just couldn’t place him. “Who are you?” Forgotten asked while stifling a yawn.

“Who am I? Who am I!!” shouted the one angel, whose ankle long golden hair trembled as he shook with anger. “I am the Angel of the Gate! I guard, I protect, I repel those who are not desired!”

“And you?” asked Forgotten turning to the other angel. Likewise this strange angel appeared quite anger, so anger that he couldn’t even speak.

“He…”, answered the first angel for him, “…Is the Angel of Law. He governs, he creates rules and order, and he punishes those who break them!”

“Ah. Nice to meet you, but you look like you’re in a hurry and I want to finish my nap before I get lost again… So nice meeting you.” Forgotten leaned back, closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Gate and Law looked down at the Ungel in pure disgust, then turned and looked at each other with evil auras drifting around them. “Tell me we are of like minds” said Gate to Law.

Finally able to speak, Law replied, “Definitely”. The two angels took up positions and promptly started to kick the Ungel, who woke up to sudden pain.

“Oww!” Yelled Forgotten. “What are you doing? Stop that!” But the angels did not stop they continued to kick him and then to punch him. Suddenly scared, Forgotten tried to stand and defend himself, but one of the angels pushed him down while painfully gripping Forgotten’s hair and the other started to yank and hit his pale silvery-blue wings. “Stop!” cried Forgotten, but this only seemed to infuriate the angels more who then put more strength into their blows.

Forgotten couldn’t help howling in his pain as the angels hit him, and though he tried to crawl away, he didn’t succeed, resulting in him trying to guard himself by protecting his head with his hands and drawing up his knees, but this left his wings exposed and he felt blow after blow fall on his poor wings.

“Please…” he cried over and over. “Please stop”. And then suddenly they did. His eyes filled with tears he could hardly see why the angels had stopped, but as he peered at them he realized what they did. From the silvery-green grass they each drew on two blades which instantly transformed into larger and deadlier versions of their tiny living counterparts. Seeing the angels advance on him, Forgotten scrambled on his knees to get away from them, drawing on all his strength despite his aching body and wings. He rolled and ducked as they swung at him, and while he dodged most of the blows, he still felt the blades run across his back, bit into his right wing, and glaze his left shoulder.

Crying out, he stumbled harder to get away from the harbingers of pain, but again and again felt their stinging kiss. Panting and whimpering beyond control, Forgotten unexpectedly felt the twist of the sword as it drilled into his lower back, and as the pain gnawed inside him he collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Seeing the ungel not moving Gate and Law nodded to each other, took up one of Forgotten’s arms and dragged him. Small rivers of blood pooled and dripped from the wounded ungel, but the two angels didn’t seem to care as they dragged him to the very edge of the Kingdom of Clouds, where the cloud-like land stops and the long descent to the Realm of mortals begins.

Dropping his arm so that he lay there with one arm hanging over the edge of the land, the angels glared down at him. Gate bent over low, though not willing to get too close as if the ungel sickened him, and whispered so very clearly to Forgotten. “If you are smart you will never come back to our kingdom. You are nothing but a monster and only deserve to live in the wilds and filth of the mortal world. While I’d prefer if all you ungels were gone from this place, that is not likely to happen, but I…” and he bent slightly lower “… can at least get rid of you!” With that Gate pushed Forgotten’s unconscious body over the edge for of the land with his foot and promptly walked away with Law by his side to recollect their masks for the masquerade.

Down and Down Forgotten fell. A mortal would have died of fright from such a fall while an angel or an unhurt ungel would have gracefully made the descent with wings outspread and the breath of the world below gently caressing their skin. But Forgotten know neither as he plummeted towards the hard ground of the mortal realm. The wind did not catch in his wings to slow him, but twisted them painfully from the speed and pressure of the fall, breaking the finer and smaller of their bones.

He fell and fell. His dripping blood flew up behind him only to chase him down at a slower speed. On and on he dropped, unaware that he went through low floating clouds, moments of drifting sunlight, and finally back through dark clouds into pelting rain. Backwards he went, a larger shape among the torrents of rain, with his back and shoulders towards to rapidly approaching ground, his head and small and broken wings flailing and bent over his shoulders towards his knees.

Like a falling star he crashed through the canopy of branches, sending a shower of dark wet leaves down with the rain. He collided with wood, bounced against immovable tree trunks, and was whipped and torn raw by bark and smaller branches alike. His descent in the trees only barely slowed his speed before he smashed shoulder-first into the yielding and black watery surface of the swamp water below.

That should have been the end of the Ungel of the Forgotten, becoming another lump of flesh missing in the realm of mortals, but that is not the fate of one who is immortal like is an ungel. They might be ripped piece by piece, but they will live. After a moment, the inky surface of the water throw up the unconscious ungel who lay partially floating face-up, bloody and broken, in the water.

His unaware form did not feel his body, it did not hear the movements of things coming towards him even as something slipped into the water and came up beside him. He knew nothing…just nothing…

…until he tried to open crack an eye and found that he could not see. But the fact that he could not see became secondary as the wave of torment from his broken body flowed over him. He couldn’t help the moan escaping him as every inch of his body cried out. At that moment he did not care that he lived, he did not care that he wasn’t going to die, he did not care about anything but not wanting to hurt. He moaned again, never noticing the touch of something cool touching his forehead, and later something even colder slipping past his lips, across his tongue and down his throat. Instead he gratefully gave himself up to the darkness and passed into dreamless sleep.

He itched. He ached too, but it was the need to scratch that woke him up. He attempted to move his hand and found that he couldn’t move his arm. Again he tried to open his eyes and found that this time he could, shuddering as the pain flowed over him in small waves, he blinked pain-filled tears from his eyes and was instantly blinded from the light. Wincing and by pure reflex he move his head away from the light and suddenly wished he hadn’t. It hurt. Great Lords how it hurt.

Blinking in the light as he opened his eyes again he discover that he was laying on a bed of sorts, on his front with his wings drooping behind him. His arm was pinned under the weight of his body and he knew that he was too battered and weak to move it.

Something gentle was touching his wings even as something else that was itchy was removed from them. A ribbon-like cloth , white and clotted with blackened-red, dangled down his side pooling onto the floor below him. More was added to the pile as he felt the itch unwinding by some mysterious process. Wanting desperately to move his wings to relieve the ache, he withheld the urge as he now felt something wonderfully cool and moist being coated onto his wings. The terrible itching was being melted away by the gentle touch and the coolness. Oh.. how he wanted to feel that coolness all over, knowing that it would drain away the pain, but he was tired and the cool touch was encouraging him to float in that place between sleep and wakefulness.