This is not a fairytale. This is not a myth. This is not a legend. It is the tale of how the world began. It is the history of how good and evil became two not so destiny things. It is the story of a girl. Rhiannon. But she was not a girl as you or I know a girl to be - Rhiannon was an angel. At first, there was nothing. The world was a place of evil. It was only inhabited by men who did not know anything but war and conflict and sin. For there was something the war did not yet know - love. The earth had never yet had a female presence for all the women were pure. They were angels. And among them was Rhiannon. She was born as any other angel; a star fell to the heavens and created her heart. She had no parents, for men and women had not yet realized how to create life. She lived as all angels did, in the heavens. They did not have a god to lead them in the traditional sense as we might often imagine angels having, they were led by The Moon. Luna. And she had one command for her angels, they must never descend to earth. They must never fall to The Sun, the leader of the men of the earth. The angels had a single white rose in their hair, growing from behind their left ear, if they were to ever descend, it was said the flower would cease to exist and the very soul of the angel would be lost to oblivion. Luna had said that one had fallen before - she lied, for the first angel to fall to earth was Rhiannon.
Now, as I have said, Rhiannon was like any other angel. Night was so permanent in heaven that the angels had no word for it, in the same way men of the earth had no word for the day that the sun’s constant luminance cast. The angels flew and soared through the darkness on white wings and danced among the stars eternally. Not to worry, they had entertainment, they would watch the conflict of the earth from above and appreciate the perfect world they had in heaven. But this was where Rhiannon first was shown to be different. She was not satisfied by watching the world suffer. She devised an elegant concept to create the perfect world. Love. She thought, if she could love a man of the earth, all hatred and conflict would end as it would be counteracted by the purity of the soul when it experienced love. It dawned on her that actually the heavens may not be so perfect and pure at all, for the angels loved hate more than the men of the earth hated love.
She decided she would teach Luna of her concept and her plan to fall in love with a man called Dimitrius. A young man who Rhiannon found most handsome. Luna was enraged by her plan and banished her from heaven to the kingdom of Leo - the earth. And so Rhiannon has no other option but to fall. She fell to Earth.
Crushed ivory crinoline floated and fluttered around her as the untouched wings of a butterfly in a dream. The hem was heralded by delicate lace fringing as light as its soft shade. Bright petals of purest starlight adorned the bust as sparkling diamonds on the hottest summer day. White petticoats beneath the opulent surface flowed unsullied as the pleasant wings of a dove as she took about the wind. As she fell, the white turned to black.
Her ebony curls took flight as she fell unaided from the night, spiraling about her as the harsh beating wings of a raven. The soft dark strands appeared to separate oddly as she began her descent into Leo’s Kingdom. The single white rose sat planted in her hair behind her ear as if it’d grown from that very spot with beautifully soft inner petals growing as waxy pale flesh upon a corpse. Bright green thorns protruded from the strong short stem sharply as tiny rapier blades though they did not seem to hurt her. This was the last thing to change, it did not vanish as Luna had predicted, it changed colour from the epicenter, it grew again. It became red.
Huge wings grow plainly out from behind her shoulders and folded neatly as the wings of an egret behind her, intertwined with her raven locks. The delicate feathers lay as black as night upon her dark ballgown as her wings eagerly spread wide, lashing against the chilled dusk air. Her crystalline blue eyes shone brightly in the subtle light cast by Luna obscured only by the jealous coveting clouds of her lashes. Despite their shade, they appeared somehow fiery as crisp autumn leaves upon a forest floor. The light rose from within them as she herself fell gently into the dewy air as a lofty dreamer lost in sleep and as she plummeted and hit the ground all would be sure she had died. But she hadn’t, she had simply become a Dark Angel. She was only to be woken by a soft feeling on her lips. The feeling was created by Dimitrius. The young man she had watched. The feeling woke her, and she called it the first thing that came to her mind; a kiss. And that was how to world began.