Mage of Memory

“I don't scream as I fall.”

Kicked out of Heaven and sworn to a life of darkness and death, what is a fallen angel supposed to do?
Alexandra Miller has done something horrific and unspeakable, and has therefor been kicked out of Heaven. But the thing is, she can't remember what she did, and there are people out there who are planning to kill her for what she's done. But instead of trying to find out who they are, Alexandra has caught the eye of someone else, and is slowly falling all over again.

What will she do?

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1. Prologue

I don’t scream as I fall.

 

I hid in the rolling green hills, my back pressed into the damp ground as I stared up at the exposed sky overhead.  Children ran through the tall grass chasing each other, completely oblivious to the bloodbath that happened not a few hours ago.  My black dress was torn into shreds; light pink Lichtenburg scars encircled the left side of my body and stopped at the top of my neck, leaving my face unharmed.  Dried blood covered most of my skin.

I attracted next to no attention lying in the tall grass, and that’s what I wanted.  The laughs that filled the air not a second ago were replaced with cries of horror and grief, and I closed my eyes.  This is my entire fault.  I heard the strong wing beats of five Angels as they approached my hiding place.  My time was up.

I stood up and faced the soldiers that now stood before me.  They wore silver and held swords of gold.  Each of their faces held a different emotion; anger, despair, grief, resentment and hate, and it was aimed at me.

“Alexandra, come with us,” the man in the front said to me in a voice that sounded as if it were made of stone.

I nodded at him and released my own wings.  Two soldiers lifted off and one stood next to me, waiting.  I spread my wings and took off, following the two Angels in front of me.  Two flew next to me and one more flew behind, caging me in.

They took me to the gates, where hundreds upon hundreds of Angels stood looking towards our arrival, but I could only focus on the four that stood apart from the rest.  We landed in front of them and the soldiers walked away, leaving me with the four Angels.

They were all men, and men I knew very well.  The shortest of them stepped forward, his face lined with grief and disappointment.  He drew his golden sword from its sheath on his waist and held it towards my chest.

“Alexandra Miller, you are now by forth, exiled from Heaven,” my father pronounced in a voice that was loud enough for everyone to hear.  With one last look at me, he lowered his sword to the ground.

It opened up and then all I could see was white.

I don’t scream as I fall.

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