Of White Feathers And Chocolates

Author’s note: Wow…I mean, wow. I actually did it. I WROTE A STORY!! WOOT! Hello World!....Ok, so well, I know I am supposed to feel happy or something becoming an author, but I feel…normal. Anyway, if you feel lightheaded or just plain blunt today, like I am most of the time, this is my very first attempt in writing such a story. I am usually seen pulling my head off through grabbing fistfuls of black hair writing essays on social and world issues for my General Paper class. So please, please do read and review the story. This is composed of two chapters, had to split it since it was too long put together, the next one full of lemony lemon themes, I think... And please be gentle, if you hate it, please do tell why. I am aspiring to become an author…^_^


Disclaimer: This is *my* story…characters and themes and settings were brewed in my own sick, twisted, warped, perverted little mind during the time of typing. Any similarities are purely coincidental and it would be nice of you to tell me though. If you think I am plagiarizing or anything, email me. And don’t even think of plagiarizing me, because my demonic pet Damon would hunt you down and pound your sorry little ass (you could always ask him to be gentle though…like I...nvm).Its not that I am implying my story is that great though….*sigh*

Warnings: Yaoic themes involved, as in, love between the male homosapiens. Rating will plummet up in the next chapter…anyway, if this is not your cup of tea or glass of milk or bottle of chocolate syrup, please go away…*cute kitten eyes*.

‘Special’ thanks goes to Alexei, the Ever So Doubtful One, for proofreading this piece. I mean, really, thank you…and I’m out of cookies…Now on with the story…which is dedicated to Katherine….;P~~~

Oh yeah, before I forget…

Summary: Could a cup of white chocolate help with the feelings between a cleric and his guardian pent up for ten years? And is the author so darn blunt so as to not realize how lame this summary is? And why is it so different from the one outside? Takes [lace in a kingdom so holy and perverted… Happy Reading!…

Of white feathers and chocolates
Chapter 1

Black tendrils swayed gently over his soft amethyst eyes as a soothing gust of wind past by the seemingly divine garden just outside the Council’s administration palace, though they called it the administration’s block it really is more fitting to call it a palace. He closed his eyes slowly, savoring in the soothing breeze as he lay back on the white marble positioned thoughtfully so as to allow anyone to have a great view of the artificial Eden. Just from his tired facial features, one could tell that it had been quite a long day for him.

His cheekbones were high, making his features, all planes and angles, more masculine, more…handsome for lack of a better word. The sun seemed to be in a good mood today as it shone gently over his soft and fair skin. He looked content in those black robes embellished with sacred symbols and writings made with blackened mithril thread and a miniature medal-insignia of a pure white oval stone covered by three silver pairs of wings, as if to protect it. A sign of the guardians of the clerics and the kingdom altogether. The Holy Kingdom of the Seventh Prince, the Centre of Aethria and the other six kingdoms of the other Princes surrounding it.

He pulled his head back and seemed to sigh in contentment. The ‘other’ could not really be sure, since it was a few kilometers away from where he was standing, despite his ability to see such a far distance. But it was one of those expressions that needed more attention at a much…closer distance. Lord Sedrick Aethri, the Black Knight as they call him, the Guardian of guardians, and the Holy Shield of the seven kingdoms, remained infinitely oblivious to his…observer.

The ‘other’ continued his observation as he trailed his sight from the knight’s head to the spread, well-built arms hanging over each side of him on the marble bench. And realized how this place had a fetish for white marbles.

He sighed and chuckled to himself as he realized what he was doing. Standing on a white marble balcony adorned with silken drapes was the High Cleric of the whole of the seven kingdoms. Contrast to his…involuntarily observed victim, he was confined with pure white robes, with a touch of silver and hints of shimmering gold, adding even more to his own natural majesty. A long silvery stole embroidered with even more sacred writings and runes of gold hung eloquently from his broad shoulders down to his ankles as it swayed along with the gentle breeze. It was a breezy afternoon…His raven straight, shining black hair, perfectly framing his angelic features, sashayed along brushing the sanctified stole, a few unruly dark strands oscillating horizontally, ostensibly playfully over his silver soft blue eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light all the time. His skin was even fairer, smooth and pure. The air around him swirled so smoothly and gracefully, a mark of his extent of power.

He stood tall over the balcony, his face wearing a forlorn expression. Ereviel Arwan Seraphi, Highest of Clerics, ranking only second to the Princes, the Blessed Earthen Angel, an earthly embodiment of purity and divinity, the Angel of Melancholy, was keeping a gargantuan, bigger-than-the-whole-universe-times-ten type of a crush on the Guardian of guardians. Well okay, he was deeply… *deeply* in love with the guardian since the past decade.

As in really, really ‘I’ll give everything up just for you’ type of deeply in love, One that made your blood turn to fragmented glass and acid that eats away your very heart and soul when you realize the other is so, so near and yet so very far.



“If only….” A tear was held back.

Ever so suddenly, a whirl of white feathers sprang up from nowhere and light blasted throughout the whole sanctum of the cleric and out came a royal messenger in soft blue uniform robes, effectively interrupting the cleric’s moment of miserable, desponded state of mind.

“Your Eminence, the Grand Banquet has been set in two days from now and the Prince…” notified the messenger, getting straight to the point, knowing full well how the clerics simply hate formality in privacy. Except for the term of position, he still tingles when people address him as Your Holiness or Your Eminence.

“Oh what does he want now?” spat the angel.

“He is…worried over the table settings and the decorations of the hall. He expressed that it has been a whole six days since the last Reunion of the Princes and he wants it to be….”

“Yeah, yeah. Perfect, just like this God forsaken excuse of a kingdom. Like always. Anything else?” said the cleric as he was seemingly trying to bore a hole into the messengers head. The other was his personal secretary actually.

The Seven Princes and the High Cleric were more than just princes and their kingdom’s cleric. They had this infinite brotherly bond that binds them together, amplifying anything they do and all other nonsense. A group of young and divinely intellectual, supremely gifted, purely blue-blooded, looking to be in their post nineteen or early twenties even though they have been around since the past nine decades, men, they were truly a sight to behold, aesthetically speaking. Individually and together. The cleric was the…fairest of them all for lack of a better phrase.

“Lord Sedrick would like to request an audience with you, Your Holiness…”

“?!..*cough*…he…WHAT?!”

The cleric was coughing his head off choking from the white chocolate syrup that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The messenger could only lick his lips and he watched the liquid bliss dribble down from the corner of the angel’s mouth. Not from the dribbling effect, but the chocolate. Even if he did, no one could blame him, the cleric was truly a personification of perfection.

“The Knight of the Holy Order of the Guardians, Lord Sedrick, has requested an audience with you, Your Eminence. He seems to have a few issues to discuss regarding the annual Grand Prayer ceremony a month from now.”

The secretary bowed his head in an attempt to hold back a chuckle, before he invokes the wrath the High Cleric.

He could not seem to find an answer as to why the cleric behaves like this every single time the knight requests an audience, of which was quite a rare situation. And of his weird and unique personality. And the cleric seemed to be engaging into an absent-minded state of mind quite frequently lately. Despite his abhorrence to formality, his current acts were somewhat out of character; verily a sign that something was troubling the cleric.

Arwan tried to compose himself and rubbed his chest involuntarily, futilely trying to calm his raging heart. He tried breathing in and out slowly, confiding and convincing himself with the joy of meeting his source of life and that inextinguishable flame that was lit when he first saw the guardian claiming the highest seat in the Order he was in.

Arwan himself marked the young man’s soul with the Divine Seal of God, a gift from above of something close to immortality. One of the fifteen that are marked, namely the Holy Council of Clerics and the Princes themselves. It was bequeathed unto them after the last Holy War, a war against the very antithesis of God in every way but not divinity and Godhood, now only remnants of his evil touches remained in the world. The eight heroes now are the Princes and the High Cleric of the Kingdom of Aethria. The Grand Prayer ceremony was especially made for this. And Arwan took a whole five awkward seconds just looking at the kneeling young knight before him…And the first contact by his hand and the other’s soul, he knew he was in love.

“Well, tell him I’d be free past dusk. I’ll see him then.”

It was just a few minutes shy for a full two hours till sundown. Arwan tried his best to put on a holy and formal face. Despite his loathing, he still has a reputation of a High Cleric to keep. Outside his chamber though, he was a true embodiment of masculine etiquette, gliding through the palaces and the posh floors of the kingdom, as an angel descending from the high heavens.

“As you wish, Your Eminence. And as for the Prince?”

“Just tell him I recommend black, he’ll know what to do.”

“Of course. May I take my leave now, Your Holiness?”

“Oh, just one more thing. This place looks okay?”

The messenger could only smile. Just one word and it would only take a few milliseconds to be misinterpreted and the cleric would soon start to redecorate the whole sanctum, just like in the yesteryears. From all the other rooms throughout the whole kingdom, it was simply the most lavish. Silver, gold, burgundy, and white for a theme, and that hint of peppermint in the air. The velvet drapes decorating the walls. To describe it in detail would make a whole two inch thick book, three-quarters of the book being simply words of enhancements and praises.

“Ookay, I’ll take that as a yes.”

The other then bowed his head and left the chamber in a single wink of an eye with one flashy feathery ending, leaving Arwan to contemplate on his impending meeting…


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Sedrick grasped his left chest, trying to soothe his rampant heart as he treaded along the massive, hallowed halls decorated with holy writings, an entrance passageway leading to where the High Cleric’s sanctum is. This whole palace came to be known as the Holy Sanctum, designed by the High Cleric himself, the uppermost hall where religious and highly important ceremonies and events are held. He was mulling over postponing his audience with the cleric, even though he was already set on meeting him last two months past. It was always like this every single time he wanted to meet the cleric.

Sedrick would always steal quick but frequent glances over the cleric when they have conferences or formal meetings accompanied by other position of authorities, just to relinquish and temporarily fill the empty void in his heart. He could already feel the flesh below his skin get warmer and warmer, a resultant of this…this fire lit up when he first saw the cleric, when he was given the highest rank in his Order. And he immediately realized he was so intensely in love with the cleric when the first touch of the angel’s physical self was made with his soul, marking him not only with the Seal, but the angel’s own touch. The intensity of what he was feeling was so severe it has manifested itself into a sledgehammer ramming and pounding his heart into an acute, melancholic and depressed state, one of those times when you just want to exist no longer for everything has lost all meaning when you feel you simply can’t have that one precious, precious thing.

His steps slowed against his will, his legs getting unusually heavier by the second.

‘Damn this, why can’t life be fair and he just understands what I’m feeling?’

The people did not simply call the cleric the Angel of Melancholy; it was because of his rule over the emotions and senses. Anyone and everyone could fall prey to his illusions and manipulations, if he wanted, that seemed to can even turn the very fabric of reality.

Sedrick was no less than an entity of perfection himself. Now clad in his dark, blackish-purple uniform, he emitted practically dignity and majesty all around. He would even look much better now if it was not for him to be dragging his legs one after the other because they did not feel like walking anymore. He really did look like a fool. The hottest fool you would ever set eyes upon…

At long last, he arrived in front of the door. It was *the* door. He looked up and sighed before proceeding to neat up his attire. And open robe decorated his upper torso falling smoothly to his legs, a sky black embroidered stole of rank adorned his proud shoulders. He pulled on his long sleeves to make them impossibly straighter than they were, inspected the onyx buttons on his clothing and tugged on his abyssal black leather belt hugging his perfect torso. When he thought he was impeccable enough, he sighed and thought,

‘I so can’t do this…’

His right hand did not seemed to care though as it reached for the golden seal on the door where a knob or something similar should be and laid itself to rest upon the cold metal.

And he almost came when he felt the presence of his flawless angel overwhelming him; his feelings exaggerated the effect of course. It was the cleric’s way of welcoming his guests to enter.

The door that seemed to be built by the architect of Heaven shimmered in brilliance as he passed it through as if it was not there. And in a matter of a few moments, inside the sanctum he was. And unlike any of the other nights in the years before, this was going to be different…

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A/N: *fondles with fingers and tries to look like a cute little beaten-up kitten* So…uhh…the next chapter…..