Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Kal-El/?)
Genres: AU, Drama
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: Not sure if warnings are necessary, but it’s quasi-religious imagery.
General Summary: Two Angels are sent on a Quest to find Pure Souls.
Chapter Summary: The Quest for Pure Souls begins.
Date Of Completion: December 5, 2007
Date Of Posting: May 11, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 346
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: asm613 requested "Clark and Bruce as angels on a mission to find pure souls" from my DCU GSB Fic Request Meme.
Unfortunately, my Muses simply refused to cooperate, and I was on the verge of giving up, when I got this idea. It’s not quite what the requester wanted, but close! So I hope you like it, asm613 ! :)
All chapters can be found here.
THE QUEST BEGINS
"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies.
…when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
First Inaugural Address
March 4, 1861
And, lo, the Angel of Light descended upon the Earth, clad in shining white raiment with piping of rubies, gold, emeralds and sapphires. White wings majestically spread out, the Angel fair of face with eyes the color of the sky.
The Darkness swallowed him in the Black Forest and his Light made the unsavory scurry away, the stench of decay wrinkling his nostrils.
“Come, show thyself,” he ordered, calmness radiating from him as his wings enfolded his robes of red-yellow-and-blue. A scarlet cloak shimmered down his back like a waterfall, the wings poking through. His sandaled feet hovered inches above the ground, robes fluttering as he hovered inches above the dank ground.
“Who are you?” came a raspy voice from the shadows.
“The Angel Kal-El.”
“Why are you here?”
“To assist you on your Quest.”
“I need no assistance.”
“It has been ordered otherwise.”
A muffled curse, then a dark figure melted out of the shadows.
Black wings completely covered the figure, a hood concealing its face. A black-gloved hand flexed while the other rested on the hilt of an ebony-handled Sword. Amethysts sparkled on the hilt, the only color on this creature.
“What is your name?” asked Kal.
“The Angel of Death.”
Kal frowned. “Your name.”
Kal drifted forward. “We are to find the souls of the Pure and welcome them to the Light.”
The black glove clenched the jeweled hilt. “Or claim them for the Dark.”
Kal drew his Sword: golden hilt encrusted with rubies, emeralds, sapphires and topazes. The Light from the Sword was blinding, the creatures of the Dark recoiling.
Death drew up his wings and shaded his eyes. “Your Light is…annoying.”
Kal laughed, the sound like silvery water over smooth stones. “I beg forgiveness.” He sheathed the Sword. “Let us begin.”
With a rustle of wings, Kal ascended, Death following close behind.
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