[LJ Idol, Season 7-10] The Icari
The first of the Icari fell to earth in 1904. As it was just after sunset and the weather was fair, folks for miles around were still out to witness the fireball tearing through the sky. It made impact just outside of town in the fields, striking like the fist of God, a flash of light followed by a roaring thunderclap loud enough to overpower a man and drop him reeling to his knees. People picked themselves up from the streets and fled in terror, hiding in whatever buildings were nearby to offer sanctuary. A few of us had seen where it came down and gathered up the courage to go look. After all, someone had to go find out what happened and what damage was done, and after that first blast there didn't seem to be anything to fear. We approached the crater, talking about where to call for a scientist if there was a chunk of meteor left. Instead, what we found sent us running for a priest.
He was obviously an Angel. Even scorched and twisted as he was in the bottom of the crater, none of us doubted it for a second. Half again as tall as a man, muscled like a statue of the Greeks, and oh the wings! Stretched out tip to tip they would easily span thirty feet! Under the light of the lanterns we could see they were each made of millions of tiny feathers, silver like perfect mirrors so he sparkled as we approached. He looked up at us weakly as we reached him, and we could see his hair and eyes shone to match his feathers. He stayed conscious for a few brief moments, just long enough to deliver his message: he was sent by our Lord because we have been observed and found wanting.
Over the next several weeks the others arrived in similar fashion, hundreds of them all across the world, maybe thousands. Many did not survive the ordeal, perishing from their wounds then rapidly fading from existence as if they never were. Those that survived healed at an incredible rate, back in perfect form in a matter of days. That any survived at all was due to the awesome power of their physical form, hard as marble like the statues they resembled in all but one detail. Their color dazzled the sight and made one cry at their beauty. Silvers, golds, crimsons and cobalts and greens, every hue colored their hair and feathers and eyes and shone like metal or iridescent beetles, no two alike in the way they were patterned. Their bodies ranged from pale pastels to warm rich earth tones. Not a touch of white adorned any of them, sending artists scurrying to correct the age-old error in depictions of the past. They also suffered nothing of the elements outside and cared not about temperature, so instead of flowing robes and gowns as previously imaged they wore no garments at all. This fact was originally met with some consternation and bashful avoidance, until the church pointed out that as angels they were free from man's original sin and had no need for shame.
In contrast to the joy of their beauty was the woe of the message they bore to us. Our Lord had been watching over us with growing disappointment and sorrow at our chosen path of development, growing certain that we could no longer be saved and that final Judgement was at hand. A group of angels interceded on our behalf, begging for a chance to forewarn and guide humanity back to His favor. He granted them this request, but in punishment for questioning His will they were forced to do so in mortal form, thrown to earth to walk among us and not gaze upon His countenance until their work was complete. They could still fly, but only as the birds do, over time and with much effort. So once they had arrived and recovered from their wounds, they dispersed throughout the world to bring His word and judgement to all the people. Man had spent far too much effort in questioning the world they had been given by Him, and turning to technology to avoid honest toil and sweat from their brow. Hunger for power had led men to abuse each other in efforts to lord over and control each other. Greed had driven men to stand by and watch others suffer while they kept what they had to themselves. The angels displaced all governments, ruling over each community locale on their own. They had no disagreements or strifes between themselves, thus war was no longer an issue. They also served as the undisputed source of all law and judgement, and could see into the souls of men which stopped most crime. Science and technology were abandoned. Most of us became farmers or craftsmen, living simpler, happier lives. The angels brought with them great knowledge and ability in the healing of men, preventing sickness and death before ones time.
Over thirty years had passed since the fateful day they began to appear. Our township was overseen by an angel I thought of as The Cardinal due to her coloring. All crimson hues and pink highlights, swirling with a pearlescent shimmer as she moved, I was transfixed by her unsurpassed beauty any time I caught sight of her. Which was often, as pined for her and made any excuse to pass within view of her.
That day I had wasted more time than normal wandering about the town hall hoping to glimpse her, and left for home well after dark. The moon weakly lit my path down the street so I hadn't bothered with a lantern, thank all that is good. I heard sounds from the alley as I neared it, some scuffles and a short cry. I stopped for a moment, then steeled my nerves and crept along the shadows around the corner to see what might be going on. From behind a crate I peered down the alley, and froze at the sight. Some poor fellow had had an accident, and lay injured on the cobblestones. She had found him, my Cardinal, and I silently watched with a tinge of jealousy as she cradled him to her chest to comfort him. I will never forget the sight of it as she muffled his cries, the noise of it as she dismembered him with a crunch, bending over him to feed.
I am not the only one that knows their secret. Several of us have observed what they do, the evils that go on when out of public sight. We know the truth behind the lies we've blindly accepted, and banded together to seek out how to finish our Lord's work. This is why we call them the Icari amongst ourselves, they have fallen from the sky and been smote upon the earth in mortal form to destroy them, for sins unknown to us in the eyes of the Lord. We quake in dispair at the impossibility of our task, for they are many and strong, nearly impervious to anything we may do to them. But we must try, as it must be the task He has set before us. We are the Partisans of the Son, and this is our story.