The golden sun rises over the dark earth, filling the horizon with cutting, bright blues. His breath stops. He gazes into it, his heart breaking with the dawn. I was a god, he thinks, a god born of a god. I belong to heaven, not this dark and dirty land.

Day enlightened the world. The things of the dark hid in their holes and their shadows, and the twittering birds of the morning sang their songs while flying between earth and heaven. He sat and watched, envying those lowly creatures tasting the birthright he never tasted. He was born damned.

Yet, his nature was for heaven, his longing for that kingdom unmoved by time, eternal day. His was a nature twisted and warped, a diseased love. He sat upon his hill, longing for a world he’d never known, hating and loving that which cast him out before he was born.

Related: The Hunter

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