Archangel

Since the beginning of time, I've served under my God. Delivering her messeges to the people as she required.

On one of my message runs, I was sent to a lovely young woman. These days she's more commonly known as Joan of Arc, but I knew her as ma tourterelle. My turtledove, I honestly never expected I was capable of loving a human, or a human was capable of truely loving me in return.

They had no reason to hurt her, so why did they? Why did they tie her to that pillar, why did they make sure she had no chance to live? Why couldn't I do anything? Her screams, they... They hurt! They hurt so much! I can still hear them, her calling for me. Begging mercy from our God, from the people. Requesting a cross to be closer to God, just as a desprate attempt for the people to stop, to get her out of there!

But they...

But...

Bu-...

But they just watched...

When she was gone, I knew. I knew God didn't want her.

I felt Joan being ripped away from this world and to a land that she didn't deserve. I asked the Goddess why and I only got a response in a threat. I kept asking hoping that I'd get an answer, but I got cast out by the very being that created me.

Now, I'm a demon.

So... Who am I, if I am even a person, to wonder the workings of this world. To question the plan of the Goddess that causes misery and death?

Who am I to want answers?

Who am I to want a life?

Who am I to want to live freely?

If my salvation means that I fall, so be it. I'd rather live than deal with the will of God. I'd much rather, see the love that she so harshly ripped from me, because she was deemed impure!

I'd rather die with love and hatred than exist only to suffer!

She is no goddess of mine.

No...

She took away the only woman worthy of the title and now it's up to me too see that it never happens again.

I'm Mikaela, ex-archangel of war.

And I'm coming for you, Bitch.