Power Rising

It was in the beginning that the rifts started happening. Now the beginning of time, but the beginning as mortals knew it. All they knew that there were rifts in what the fancifully called "heaven", but they didn’t know what started it. Their version, in some religions, was "God" casting "the Devil" out of Heaven and into Hell, as it came to be known. But there was something more complicated than just that. There was something more complicated than what the mortals could perceive. The battles were between three sides, each powerful and immense. Each had their own hunger for power, and each had their own strengths and weaknesses.

The first side was what mortals would call "angels". They were the ones with the lighter features and lighter intentions. They were the ones that wanted the best. They were the ones that started the idea of total pacifism among the mortals on the planet that was named Earth. They were the ones with snow-white wings and a golden glow about them. They were alone against the other two sides in a big battle for dominance.

The second side was what mortals called "demons". They were the darker winged forces. They were the ones who spread the need to fight for existence. They were the ones that put the road- blocks in people’s ways just when they thought that they had something good going. They were cousins to the light side, but forsook the white, bird-like wings for their own black, bat-like wings, which they preferred. They too were alone against the other two sides in the monstrous battle.

The third and final side was what mortals deemed to be nightmares. They were creatures of all size and shape that lived on wreaking havoc and destroying the life around them. They were the ones who put the vicious seed into a mortal that caused him or her to massacre anyone around them just for the fun of it. It was them that haunted humans in their dreams and made them afraid to go outside at night. While the other two races just looked like winged mortals, the nightmares couldn’t be held to any specific size, shape, or kind. They were alone against the other two, who would often band together to try and rid themselves of the nightmares, and fought against them with desperation, they wanted to win and have the fears of the mortals that they haunted to feast upon.

In the end it was the nightmares that were cast out of heaven first. They were locked up in an alternate universe that was devoid of all life. They were banished into the darkness to scream and seethe for an eternity until they could be released once again. There were a few that didn’t get banished and lived on the earth to haunt the mortals there, but they were few in number and relatively small. They weren’t big enough to cause any major damage.

The battle then turned between the demons and angels. Both forces were pretty evenly matched until one of the stronger angels encountered one of the stronger demons and defeated him. From there the demons were overpowered and cast into the realms below the earth instead of above. There they lived, away from the angels, but still able to walk upon the earth just as well as the angels were able to. From that they made their living, their relations hostile with the angels that they shared the earth with. Both kinds lived with the distrust of the other and also took time to kill any nightmare that they came across.

So it went on for thousands of years. There was only one thing that could bind them together later on, the prophecy that would change even the lives of the mortals on the earth. In the end, it would be the saving grace of the two races of winged people.

For centuries this prophecy was kept locked up until the time when both races of winged people knew that they would need it. Soon it was buried in dust, only to be remembered by the oldest. In the end, it was what was going to be the key to saving everything.