Enkauston Challenge ( Lore vs Jude )

Tucked away deep in the folds of golden idyllic clouds that echoed with the flapping of wings would be the City of Angels; a place so rich with thrill and pleasure that no bank could hold its amount which appeared to be infinite. Children danced while adults sung in harmony, their songs being of spiritual joy and fulfillment that never warranted pain; and as the singing grew with symmetry, the children's movements did as well; the two (dance and song) being in perfect sync. Though these children that danced in their cream tunics that were made of the finest silk were different than most; they were not moving about on large fields made of grass and dirt— no; they danced within the skies, those angelic white wings granting them the ability of flight as they moved graciously with the wind. It was almost as if the wind orchestrated their movements rather than the music.

And if the name of the city was not a dead giveaway, nor the fact that the people hand wings upon their backs; this heavenly place, tucked away in the sky— was a place for angels— and angels alone. The same supernatural beings you read about in Biblical scriptures, Sci-Fi books, and seen on television were almost identical to these seraphs that lived in this city for centuries. All those that dwell in the City of Angels had wings that were of ivory and glowed with purity which could be seen from afar; although, there was one particular angel that broke this stereotype with his ebony wings that made the night sky envious; Icarus. Unlike most of these beautiful creatures that possessed flawless skin which glowed with the utmost radiance and hair that was softer than a kiss from the fairest of maidens; Icarus had skin that was flawed and hair that was shaggy like a dog's.

He was the outcast of this city, a stone unturned which never knew of a different feeling rather than neglect. Thus explaining why he had not partake in the activities with the angels he watched from afar, those sanguine pools staring from a rooftop's position.

Though it was daytime, a time he was forbidden to be outside due to the laws set by the council. Icarus could not help but stare dolefully at the people who enjoyed one another's company like a poet enjoyed good literature; and as he watched with his eyes burning with hope of joining one day; he would be interrupted by the feeling of pain upon his head. "What in Daedalus's name?!" He cried aloud whilst his right hand rushed to rub the said spot in pain. The sound of a rock landing on the roof caught his eye as he soon came to understand what occurred; looking down from above the roof he sat upon, his eyes would meet the city people's own (the ones not at the festival) that continued to throw rocks at him. "Get out of here you freak! You know you're not allowed to be out in daytime, no one wants their eyes to be tarnished by the sight of a devil like you!"

Each stone that was tossed at Icarus was imbued with anger and fear of the unknown; similar to those very emotions were the boy's own as he fled to find refuge in his home that was on the outskirts of the city. It was an unpretentious hut which was gold in color; the tiles of the roof being black while the painting around the windows were of the same shade as the roof. His door had no handle— a simple push would suffice in swinging it open; and on that door— in the very center— written in cursive, was the word "freak". Using a bit of force to get access into his estate, the boy with black wings would go into his bedroom (which was also the bathroom and kitchen) to look at himself in the dirty mirror. "I'm not a freak, I'm not a devil. I'm Icarus, a boy who was born to be different!" His words were stated with sadness as he gazed upon himself, wondering if he should try cutting his wings once more due to the city not accepting him. Though each time he had attempted to cut his wings off, they grew back darker than ever— larger than ever.

Something that he had learned overtime from trying a bit too much.

"Maybe I should paint my wings white? Maybe then I will be accepted by the people, maybe then I could finally fly in the sky and soar." Continuously he mentioned ideas to himself while placing his body on the small bed of his, each idea bouncing around in his head until he finally drifted off to sleep. His eyelids became too heavy to lift after awhile, and as he dozed off to the world of slumber, Icarus had wrapped himself in his own wings to remain warm. The same wings people constantly shown disgust toward, were the same wings that were able to encase Icarus in warmth, the same wings that could take to the air just like any other; only color made his different.

Unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, a boisterous siren cried out to all those that lived near and in the City of Angels; awakening Icarus without much trouble. The council had made an official statement which could hardly be heard due to the noise of the siren drowning it out, and no one truly could make sense of what they were saying. It was only till the clamor had died down that everyone understood their fate; the impending doom that would reach in a matter of minutes. Those red pool of eyes belonging to Icarus dilated with fear as he rushed out his home to see if the tale was true; the city was falling. No one knew how or why this was happening, but one thing was for certain— this was happening.

"No, no, no. I have to be dreaming, this is just a nightmare." The boy struggled to get control of himself as he raced into the heart of the city; the people were running frantically like chicken's with their heads cut off; however, news from those blaring sirens once more released. "There's a 93% chance if all angels; and yes I mean ALL angels try to fly under the city and push it up, we may be capable of saving our city! People we must work together, even we, the council will be attempting, join our cause!" One by one angels began to spread their wings and take off, leaving only a gust of wind to prove that they were once there; the people continued to fly under their home in attempts to slow its speed and push it back up. And slowly to their surprise, the city was indeed slowing down; but there were still lacking the manpower to put it to a complete halt.

If the words of the announcement that was made earlier, was truly being listened to by the keenest of ears; one would recall that the council stated everyone needed to be in attendance to save the city, even the likes of Icarus who was still standing on the fallen city. He had remained frozen in place with fear to take action, and the people who were underneath soon came to realize that they were missing the said boy. "Icarus, where's Icarus!? We need him to help us, if we have one more person I'm sure this will put an end to our troubles!" One of the angels cried as they soon began to chant the name Icarus aloud for the boy to hear; all the other angels in attendance soon followed right after in attempts to summon the black-winged boy.

"H-h-huh?" Snapping out of his infectious terror that once held him in place, Icarus would come to realize that the people were calling out to him. For once in his life, they called out to him— by name; not by any derogatory nickname, but his actual name. And though he never took flight with his wings, the sudden rush from this all gave him the courage— for the first time ever in his life— to open those wings proudly. Those luxurious black feathers shined brighter than any candle in the darkest of night. With one powerful flap of his wings, Icarus took to the air; the soft, sweet air that had finally met his ebony wings that fluttered beautifully with each powerful stroke. For the first time ever, he felt alive; a feeling that could not be taken away by anything at this given moment.

Finally he had gotten the courage to fly, to release his wings in the sky like any other angel; even if it was due to this dire situation; he opened his wings on his own. And as the people continued to chant his name in hopes of seeing him, in hopes that he would assist to save their home; Icarus would continue to fly. Now the question was, did he fly towards them or away from them?