A/N: Welcome to Wings of Light, my latest project. This is an AU FanFic that struck me last night, and after some thought on it and pull out a decent story, I decided to write it. Chapters won't be excessively long since if I do otherwise I won't be able to finish it, and I really want to complete this one.

Every review will be gladly welcomed, and if you have any doubt, question and/or suggestion, don't hesitate to ask me.

Wings of Light

| Prologue |

Angel

Watching over the world.

That was his job. The only reason for his existence.

The angel was sitting cross-legged on the white floor, his huge feathery wings folded covering his back. His only attire were pieces of purple silk that covered the lower part of his body and were wrapped around part of his arms and ankles.

In front of him a translucent sphere floated, surrounded by veils of golden magic. It showed images of the world of the surface, one after another. The angel could choose the images he wanted to see, but he hardly ever did so. He just let them go on and observed them with little interest, his aqua-green eyes slightly unfocused after centuries of not looking away from the sphere.

The truth was he didn't care. He was an angel, a divine creature. Servant of God, the almighty Bhunivelze. As his servant, he had no emotions. Ever since he could remember, he had been there, in the threshold of his master's realm, guarding the gate and watching over Nova Chrysalia from the Ark, the moon of the world.

He could see his reflection on the surface of the sphere. The angel looked like a young man in his middle twenties, lean and slender. He had extremely pale skin, which combined perfectly with his disheveled, thick silver hair that fell straight covering his neck. He observed his features, soft and strong at the same time. He ran a finger along the zigzagging scar over his left eye: it was his brand of servitude, marking him as a divine servant of God.

There were humans on the surface that said they served Bhunivelze, but the angel thought their efforts were in vain. God has more important things to do than attend to their demands. The stability of the Universe depended on him, and the whims of the human hearts were but fleeting, selfish prayers.

This is why the angel was there. He watched over what happened in the world, and his job was to alert Bhunivelze if the order of nature were to lose control. And he also had to monitor humans, in case their dangerous free will triggered a catastrophe.

During the long centuries he had been serving God, the angel had seen more than one disaster originated by the chaotic hearts of mankind. What they called 'emotions' was but a curse to his eyes. A burden that destroyed both them and the world his master was trying to protect.

"Humans are weak", the angel thought. "They succumb to the darkness rooted in their very nature. They are unable to embrace the light and reach pure bliss."

Whenever he watched humans live their ephemeral lives, that thought haunted his mind. It was the duty of God to protect all life, and therefore it was his as well. But humans destroyed more than create. He couldn't say he liked them much.

However, this time, his eternal routine was turned upside down in a moment as fleeting as human lives were.

While observing the random images the magic sphere showed him, one of them made the apathetic gaze of the angel acquire a shine that never before his eyes had shown. He sat like a spring, unfolding his wings, and bent to look better at that brief image.

He hadn't had time to look at her properly. He only got a glimpse of spiky, wavy rose-colored hair and a pair of icy-blue eyes that had left him breathless.

For the first time in centuries, the angel used his power to make the sphere show him again that young woman, who looked humble and proud at the same time, as beautiful and mysterious as a goddess incarnate in a fragile human body.

The angel reached out to the sphere out of instinct, perhaps trying to touch the woman, to get to her. For some reason, he was so fascinated that he wasn't even aware that he was.

He was an angel, a divine being. Servants of God couldn't feel emotions.

But, unexplainably, he felt hopelessly drawn towards the image of that young woman. His green eyes were staring at her, fed by an almost feverish spark.

It had been centuries since the last time a thought pounded his mind that way. But while staring at that image, he could only think of a question, and how desperately he needed the answer.

"Who are you?"