(This story ended up sounding alot more angsty than intended/imagined. But I decided to share this one, publising my stories relieve me from a sense of inertia in general haha.

-Also note, the house was suppose to represent the Maslow's Heirarchy. Understand of that what you will.

Enjoy!).

I was sewn together by an amalgamate of threads. My stuffings are made of sentience. As a whole, the consensus could view me as another marionette. But what that consensus fails to see, is as a fragment, if you look very closely, I truly couldn’t have been made by anything other than a needle. My soul is a fabricate. Your consciousness is a deception.

No matter how I look, in my entirety, and no matter how intently I have tried to disregard it, It can’t be denied.

I'm one dimensional. Simplistic. I'm a fraudulent puppeteer,

In this very own puppet body, embroidered for my very own false existence.

...That’s just the truth.

My room in this dollhouse is the safest place I know. I can construct, destroy, and create here freely. But the outer world is erratic, neurotic, and uncontrollable.

And I want to get away from the marionettes. The facade on their faces and the way they move their strings. Unpredictable, suspicious, and oppressing. I cannot integrate with marionettes, lest I take on the habit of resewing my face, like they repaint their expressions. A deceit of what they truly feel. Injustices of their judging.

They are hazardous. But maybe, we're the same in the way we are different.

So, I sewed my own friends. Just like how I was, a thread at a time. With patience, I've created many puppets. They're just like me, a soul with no depth, meaning a materialization of boredom. We’re all alike, so now no one will judge us. The perfect accompaniment.

I finish my newest puppet, and cut the thread. Dark black dots for eyes. A stretching smile, and grey skin. Just like all the other ones, this is perfect.

“Welcome to my dollhouse.” I say it every time after completion.

“Thank you.”

“...”

It replied back. I didn’t know that could happen.

“How come you can talk?” I asked it, setting it down on my bed.

My bed, and walls are all my perfect shade of grey.

“I don’t know.” Says the puppet. “Who are you?”

“I'm you, don’t you see?” I tell the puppet, lifting it up to my face and aligning it with my eyes.

“...I understand. I see so many of us too.” The puppet says, turning its cotton woven neck at its surroundings.

On the floor, on the bed, on the shelves, on the desk. Everywhere. That's all I need.

“Yes. Do you want to be on a shelf?” I ask it, shuffling off of my bed.

“...I don’t want to.” Says the puppet.

“Okay. Do you want to stay on the bed?” I ask again.

“...I don’t want to.” Says the puppet.

“Okay. How about the floor?” I say.

“...I don't want to.” Repeated the puppet.

“That’s funny. What do you want then?”

“...” Says the puppet. Then, it slips out of my grasp onto the floor, and begins to move towards the door with its small legs.

I silently begin to follow it. Its limbs are oddly quick for such a soft puppet.

There are 5 layers of my house, each layer being smaller than the last, my room being the final layer (5th and the smallest) all the way to the right, and the 1st layer all the way to the left . All connected by door to door. I set it out to be structured this way, it sounds like a linear hierarchy.

My room isn't only filled with puppets. As grey as it is, it's filled with intricate gems and art I've made, and things that are important to me. Or are they really important to me? I don’t know what I exactly value. At this point, I may as well call myself a Muppet.

I follow the puppet to the fourth layer, which holds clay statues and paintings of different things I've seen before in the outer world. Flowers, trees, depictions of interactions, I've even made some of course resembling the little thing I'm following. All mainly of a greyscale because it looks better. I don’t know why I made most of those anyway. I don't miss the outer world.

We continue on to the 3rd layer as the little thing nudges the door open. This layer, of course, is bigger than the last 2. It holds many mirrors, instead of portraits of others. This’ll do, because I've heard houses need portraits to feel like a home. However that's supposed to feel?

As the puppet scurries on to the 2nd, this place is where I keep other things I've sewn or knitted. I have seen in children's books, a few teddy bears and fuzzy looking blankets. They don't sustain the idea of comfort to me, so I made more plushes of puppets that built up dust, but that's fine.

We arrived, at last, the 1st layer. I still do not understand where it's trying to go. Maybe it's hungry because this layer is where I keep my sewing needles and snacks that I make. They're both definitely a necessity. Well maybe my snacks don’t taste so great, but still, yum.

The puppet continued to walk forward, and stopped at the gate that leads outside, out of my dollhouse.

“...Why did you lead me here?” I ask it, looking down skeptically.

“Why don’t we find more friends?” Ask the puppet, trying to push the gate open.

“What do you mean more? We have so many of us. If you want, I can make some more. Actually, I was just about to do so.” I say, just about to turn around and head back.

“No. I mean different friends. Friends from out there. Why don't we-”

“No.” I say sternly, turning around. “Marionettes cannot be trusted. This is why we live in solitude.”

“But, don’t you want to even a little bit? How long has it been since you’ve spoken to one? Oh please give it a chance!”

“You don't understand.” I say calmly. “Everything here is way better. The outer world is mischievous. If you poke your thread out, you’ll be completely unraveled before you know..That’s just what happens.” I turn around again and head away from the gate. “Now let's go, oka-”

KNOCK KNOCK.

“..It's someone outside!” The puppet jumps.

“...’ I stay silent. Rarely anyone has ever knocked upon my door. When someone had, I had only ignored it.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Again.

“-Hello? Is anyone home? Can you help me please?” Says the voice from the other side of the gate.

“They need help. Please, let's open the door and hear them out, atleast!” Squeals the puppet

“...” I stay silent.

“Look.. if anything bad happens, i'll never mention the outer world again. Okay?” It promises, staring up at me with its black beady eyes.

“...Okay then. Fine… it seems you need to understand the world anyway.” I mutter, grabbing the handle of my gate. “Go and watch from afar. Don’t speak to them.”

I don’t want to do this. I really don’t. But it must be necessary for my puppet to learn.

So I guess I will.

…You see, this gate hasn't been opened in a while.

With a sigh, I push the gate open, it isn’t very heavy.

Slowly, it creaked wider, and wider.

The radiance of sunlight poured in. It's too warm.

The smell of trees and dirt flooded my scent. I don’t like it.

And the appearance of a male marionette in front of me.

…

“Ah- well hello!” Says the marionette.

“...”

“Uh, well- I fear I've lost my way and ended up here. I'm quite tired from being on this trail haha. Can I.. come in and rest for a bit please?” The marionette then tips his hat.

His attire seemed dusty and moderately worn.

“...”

I finally speak.

“..Okay. Follow me.” I say blankly, leading him through the gate and shutting it behind him.

“Thank you! What a nice place you have!” He says. His face displayed a painted grin.

Gross.

“Okay. Anyway, sit here. I'll bring you some water.” I say, guiding him to a chair, and walking to grab a cup.

“Thanks.” He takes a seat, his gaze drifting around his surroundings. “What is that door for, down there?” He points to the door leading to the 4th layer.

“That’s just.. Another room.” I say, walking back to him and handing him his cup of water.

“I see! This place already seems so big, crazy there's more, haha!” He says, accepting the cup, then gets up and walks down towards the door.

As he was doing so, drops of water from the cup he's holding dripped onto the floor.

“Hey, you're spilling water on the grou-”

Before I could finish my sentence, he slipped on his own puddle, falling down with a thud, and glass shattering and water splattered everywhere.

“OH! OW- I'm so sorry! I'll help you clean this!” Says the marionette, grabbing the elbow he fell on and slowly moving up.

The glass bits had gotten onto some of the snacks and a bowl of water on a nearby table.

…You cannot be serious.

“...It's..okay. I will clean that up later.” I mumble, attempting to hide my frustration.

“Okay.. I deeply apologize, seriously. I can help you clean it, but first uh.. do you have a bandage?” He looks down at his injured elbow engulfed in his other hand.

“Yeah. Actually, right this way.” I guided him to the 4th layer door, the place he seemed to want to go to sooo badly, and pushed it open.

He follows me inside, his mouth slightly widening. “This place looks very comforting!”

He says, looking around and picking up one of the scarves I had knitted to feel.

“Remember to put it back where you found it!” I snapped, unintentionally.

“... Just wait here. I'll find you a bandage.”

From the corner of my eyes I see the puppet, hiding behind one of my massive plushies, observing.

I grabbed a bandage and returned to the man. He was walking around, seemingly wanting to poke things.Unpredictable and too nosy, just what I had imagined.

“Here. Wrap it around your arm.”

“Ah, thank you!” He exclaims, wrapping it hurriedly around his elbow.

“These are very impressive, did you make it yourself?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I answered, neatening some things on a shelf.

Besides the shelf was a big piece I had made, 2 giant puppet plushes, hugging eachother in an embrace. I think it's pretty fine work.

“This is really adorable!” He said, feeling the puppet's material and tugging its arm.

He spotted a little loose string on one side of them. “Is this a tag?” He asked.

Befor I could even take a look at it, he tugged it.

The puppet's began unravelling, loop by loop and the white cotton stuffing had started to pour out of them.

“Ah-! Hey what!” I exclaimed, not knowing what to do or say at that moment. Defenselessness in the face of this destruction.

The marionette tried to put the unraveling to a halt by pinching the thread, but it solved nothing.

Now the puppets were gone, a mash of thread was lying on the ground, with fluffy cotton

Sitting on top of it.

“Why would you do that!” I yelled, glaring at the marionette, who seemed to be standing in shock.

“I..I'm so sorry i didn't know that would…” He then looked down.

“All I've done so far was trouble you, haven't I? Please forgive me, I'll go sit in silence.”

“No. You're sitting somewhere else in fact. And this place is suited for someone as clumsy and ignorant as you. And you’re going to leave shortly, so rest well!” I stomped angrily and pushed the door to the 3rd layer, which had already seemed to be slightly open.. He heeded my words and quickly went in.

He walked in with silence and confusion.

“You can reflect on yourself here. And these mirrors can’t break easily either.” I glared at him one more time, and left towards the 4th layer, shutting the door behind me.

I sighed, squeezing my hands together. Then I felt something tugging below me.

The puppet, with an eternal smile plastered on its face.

“So, you see? They're just.. Unpredictable. All of that actually could've been planned too.” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“They were accidents!” Exclaims the puppet. “Why don’t you calm down for a bit here, you can start a new painting.”

I look around the room. There's still many spaces for a hung up canvas.

“Sure. Why not? I'll check up on that burden in a while then.” I walk towards a few blank canvases leaning on the bottom of a wall.

“For now, I need you to make sure he's not doing anything bad.”

“Okay!” Says the puppet, and watches him from a peep under the door.

A few minutes later, it squeezes under the door. “I'll be right back!”

“Sure.” I mumble, focused intently on my ongoing artwork.

…Okay. Time to drop the paint brush. On the canvas, I decided to repaint the puppet's who were once intertwined. This time at least they’ll be in each other's embrace eternally.

Hm. But wait a second. That puppet hasn’t been back for a while..

I get up moving towards the door, turn the doorknob and peer into the 3rd layer.

He's gone.

Where did he go? Didn’t I give specific orders for him to stay there?

I walk intently into the 2nd layer. The cotton and string of the earlier incident were all in separate piles on a shelf, the strings had already been rolled up into a yarn, and the cotton in a few spare bags.

Did the puppet do this?

I continued on to the 1st layer, and was taken aback from what I saw.

There, sweeping, was the marionette, putting the glass shards into a dustpan, and the snacks on the table were cleared.

He walked over towards a trashcan and dumped it inside.

“There we go…” He muttered, setting down utensils, then finally turned his head to see me standing.

“Ah! You’re here! I hope I made this up to you!” The marionette said, his strings attached to his limbs moving him forward towards me.

“..So you did all of this huh…” I said, crossing my arms again. “Well, good…”

“Yes, haha, again I apologize.” He scratched at his head.

“...Okay. Well, I guess I apologize too, for calling you ignorant. Even though you were.” I say, turning back towards the door of the 2nd layer.

“Well thanks anyway.” Says the marionette, standing in his place.

I walked into the 2nd layer, and looked back.

“Aren’t you following?” I asked, gesturing to him to follow.

“Ah! Okay!” He exclaims, hurrying along towards me.

We walked through the 3rd layer, and into the 4th.

“Okay, this time, do not touch anything.” I say, leading him into the middle of the room.

Shifting his wooden head from left to right, he took in the sight of everything, practically marvelling. The aroma of the essence, the sculptures, the paintings on the wall, my collection of paintbrushes.

“Are you good at painting?” I ask the marionette, picking up my paint brush again.

“Oh, not very good, but I have before!” He says, clasping his hand behind his back, as if promising to not meddle with anything.

“Look, you can paint here, but if you somehow accidentally mess with something again though, you will leave immediately, okay? Take this as my proper hospitality to you.” I handed him a spare paintbrush and a paint tray.

“I promise I won’t this time!” He receives the items.

“Okay well then, I want to see your experience.”

And that he shows me. A decent artist, in fact.

We chatted for a while, as we were creating a landscape.

It was similar to the view outside of my dollhouse. The one I rarely see, but in the portrait, as I was working on the frame of my dollhouse, right below the gate were flowers.

There, a contrast between the dull colors of the house and bright colors beneath.

The marionette drew those. I don’t remember seeing those there though, what an inaccurate depiction.

We moved on to sculpting, and I set out the clay.

The marionette trailed after me, sitting down beside me.

“What do you want to make?” I ask the marionette as I place the clay on the pottery wheel.

“Well, you choose. It's your stuff?” He says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I asked you first.” I sigh, glaring at him.

He giggles, then places his hand on his chin.

“How about.. Something simple. Like a lantern? This room is a little dark, haha.”

“Not a bad idea, though I disagree with this room’s lighting. You get used to it when you don't indulge in sunlight.” I say, turning the pottery wheel on.

“Are you a vampire or something?” He asks, beginning to cup the clay around his hand.

“No? I'm a puppet.”

…

“Atlast, it's completed!” I say, admiring our work. This had been going on for about half an hour.

“Amazing! We just need a candle now.” The marionette cheers. “For now, I'll go wash my hands quickly.”

“Okay.”

Is a real candle necessary right now? I think I have a prop instead, I don't need an actual lantern.

I turn to the door of the 5th layer, and head inside searching for the prop.

A moment later, I hear clunking on the floor nearby.

“What are you doing?” He asks, peeping into my room.

“I'm finding a prop candle instead. I think I've crocheted one previously.”

“Okay, I'll wait here then.” He said, then turning back.

After 5 minutes or so, I found it. I truly do have many random things, for I had the eternity to learn these skills.

As I turn around, I see the marionette holding an illuminating object in his hand. Seeming to be enticed by its flame.

“Why are you holding my essence? We won't use that.” I say, eyeing the male sternly. “Put that down.”

“...” He spoke no words.

“Do you not hear me? Put that down before you create another predicament.”

“...” He spoke no words again.

“Hello?!-”

“Thank you for hosting me.” He says, finally looking up at me.

“...?” I stared at him, crossing my arms. “So you do hear me.”

“You don’t leave this place often you claim. Why don’t you?” He begins.

“What are you talking about? I'm not intereste-”

He interrupts me with a sigh.

"I don't understand. The colors of this world is umbiquitous, yet you only know of the shade grey? And your needles solely ever create one thing?" He continues, the flame in his hands swayed placidly.

"I don't know what you're on about. Now don't try and start causing another proble.."

"Why do you contrict yourself? Is it from fear? Is it really hatred?" The marrionate slowly begins to back away.

"Well then, worry! Because I'm going to burn this place down.” The marionette says sternly, holding the enlightened candle in the palm of his wooden hand. “From the outside in.”

And with a swift push on the ground, runs off, through the doors.

“Wha..What? What are you saying?!” I shout.

All that rambling and then..this? This is what happens when you trust those things!

I trailed after him, moving as fast as I could. The marionette is quick, already several feet ahead of me, pushing through door to door until finally, at the first layer, in front of the gate.

“Stop that.. right now! What are you doing?!”

The marionette doesn’t look back and instead starts pulling on the door, the candle still ignited, in hand, directed in my direction, as if to signal for me to stay back.

I stop in my tracks. Yelling at him wasn’t doing anything. I began to panic, looking around my surrounding area in hopes for something to stop him with.

Right there, on one of the counter’s, I spotted a sharp sewing needle.

As the door of the gate began to sway open, I instinctively grabbed the needle.

At that moment, I threw the needle as fast as I could, at the string which attached the marionette’s head to its body.

Finally pushing the gate open, the marionette turned its head, but ultimately couldn’t move in time. No, he couldn’t even realize what had happened.

THUD.

The body of the marionette collapsed, its head crashing on the floor, and the candle snuffed out, its wax fragmented.

The puppet, who finally caught up, witnessed the scene before us.

…

“I had to.” I finally began, walking up to the stringless marionette, looking down at its corpse. “He threatened us.. It was needed.”

“But look! Outside there!” Squealed the puppet, pointing to the now opened frame of the gate, running towards it.

“Wait a minute, don’t go out there. Why don’t you listen to me!” I huffed.

Hesitantly, though I have to, I run after the rebellious thing.

“My point has been proven already… you have to understand now!”

I stop barely an inch beyond the front of my gate, the blinding sunlight hitting my eyes, and the odor of the outdoor’s hitting me once again. I blink again, and again.

“Puppet! Return here, it’s dangerous..” I repeat in a frantic voice.

…

My eyes finally adjusted to the light, and the sight in front of me.

There in my view, similar to the view of the illustration the marionette and I were creating. The scene of flowers of different colors, odd petals I've never seen before. Embedded in the dirt, and all embracing the sun’s warmth.

There are numerous trees that have always slept in my garden, but I never took the time to look up at their leaves, which displayed an ombre of different green’s, a tiny chrysalis swaying gracefully with the rhythm of the soft wind.

And a tiny puppet, who was enlightened by this sight, standing there in pure awe.

...

I return with the puppet in the clutches of my hand, in the enclosure of my room.

“Too much has happened right now. You must be tired, no? Let me find a shelf to put you on.” I say, measuring the puppet up to one.

“Hm.. where do you want to go? If I put you too far left here I wouldn't be able to tell you apart from that puppet... but too far right here and you’ll be all alone.” I say, shifting it left to right indecisively.

“To be fair, I couldn’t tell you which I made first and last soon, anyway.”

I think I'll decide later. For now, I have an idea. Something new to make.

From the string that was previously pierced, with that needle, I want to learn how to sew a marionette.

If only he told me what he was plotting.

“I was right about everything I said, you see. Erratic, unpredictable…” I mumbled, and placed the puppet on the floor.

The puppet only looked up at me, with the same eternal smile stitched on its face.

I'm one dimensional. Simplistic. I'm a fraudulent puppeteer,

In this very own puppet body, embroidered for my very own false existence.

And maybe the layout of my dollhouse is completely wrong.

…The curtains close!

Title: One winged Angel

(Revised) Please read my bio/enjoy!

Beyond the crows up above you will find an angel. This angel has a pair of wings with gray fluttery feathers, and long curly black hair with eyes the color of the sun. During the night, the angel would cast blessings over the snoozing animals and humans leaving behind a trail of sparkles wherever they flew, creating a symphony of beautiful illuminated specks that shortly dispersed into the air like envisioning a fleeting gift.

During the day, the angel watched over the land from up above, gliding by all the rowdy villages on their firm, yet fluffily cozy white cloud. The angel has an unwavering sense of duty and determination to protect the species of the lands all alike, with their silver bow and hasty arrows fighting off any malicious intercosmic entity who dares to disturb the eternal peace the angel believes is deserved and seeks to defend. The angel has been repeating this cycle bestowed to them, the humans down below unconscious of so, for hundreds upon hundreds of years.

One gloomy day, a figure from out of that world fell into the atmosphere at an unimaginably swift rate. It ripped through the clouds, not so far from where the angel was lounging on their own while overseeing a village. Alarmed, the angel hurriedly rose up and flew down to figure out what had entered.

Just as the angel arrived and set their wings, the people of that village were already crowding around the massive crater the figure was in, dust and debris from the now demolished road created a puff in the surrounding air making it hard to see just what is inside.

The people were in a state of confusion, then suddenly noticed the angel's presence.

“Look, is that a massive bird?”

“No, that's an angel of course!”

“Is that seriously an angel?”

“Angels don’t exist you idiot!”

Numerous murmurs and noises emitted from the confused crowd.

The angel, in a state of urgency, sighed and spoke up to the crowd.

“Please, move away from the crater! There’s a mysterious being in there, and it may very well be dangerous!”

The people, now all frightened and exclaiming, heeded the words of the angel and backed away from the crater.

The angel moved closer, bow in hand and arrow in the other, aiming at the moving figure inside of the crater, ready to strike.

Just before the angel let go of their arrow, the dust had dispersed enough for everyone to see who was inside.

The figure took the shape of a human with wavy blond hair and eyes the color of night, along with tattered black clothes and bruises from the fall all over their body. Slowly they rose up, coughing and dusting themselves off.

The angel, still aiming at the figure, spoke. “Who are you and where have you come from?”

The figure glanced at their own hand, then up at the angel.

“My name is Angus,” Said the figure. “You already know exactly who I am.”

“That's not true, how would I have known who you are? You broke into this atmosphere, and you haven’t answered my second question.” Says the angel, tightening their grip and growing more wary by the second.

The people are all quiet in fear, watching the scene before them play out.

“Yes you do!” Exclaimed Angus, jumping out of the crater and landing a few feet before the angel, taking them by surprise.

“Stay back or I will pierce you! State where you came from now.”

“Relax, our dear angel, or should I call you Ciro?” Angus said crossing their arms, but not moving an inch.

“How do you know my name?” Asks the angel, eyebrows raised but still not wavering.

“That's because…” Angus mutters, facing the crowd of people watching. “This “angel” before you all, is a fraud! I am the real angel!”

The crowd, now shaken again, starts looking back and forth at Ciro and Angus.

“What nonsense are you sputtering? You are clearly no angel!” Ciro exclaims. “You better stop this right now, my patience is wearing thin.”

“Entities who can steal the abilities of other entities exist.” Explains Angus. “You, Ciro, stole my abilities and ripped my wings off of me to put them on your own body. And are now posing as a true heroine? Despicable!” Angus exclaimed with knitted eyebrows, pointing an accusing finger at Ciro.

“Liar! I haven’t done such a thing! You clearly are trying to accuse me falsely of fraud. Enough of this, i’ll shoot you right now and-”

“Wait!” A guy shouted from the crowd. Everyone stopped and turned to look at who interrupted the dispute. “Don’t shoot them, or we’ll just think you're lying! If you really are the true angel then prove it!”

“Exactly!” Angus triumphs at the suggestion and turns towards Ciro. “Prove you're the real angel!”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Asks the angel. “You’ll claim that anything I do is a stolen ability, won't you?”

“No, there's a way. Let's compete. A true angel has 3 exceptional traits, determination, strength, and creativity. Why don’t we see who can win by the end of the day? And whoever loses should accept being captured and punished as a fraud. And well, you give my abilities back.”

“You think I'm gonna lo…” The angel mutters angrily, glaring at Angus. Then at the fearful crowd. Finally, the angel lowers their bow and puts it away. “Fine, but you will not beat me.”

“Then it's final! Since you're ever so confident in winning, you won’t mind me choosing our battles, will you?” Angus asks, smirking at Ciro.

“Go ahead.”

“Very well. First, for determination, there's a deep river south from here right? Why don’t we jump in and see who can hold our breaths the longest?” Asks Angus.

“Fine by me, let's all go there together, and the people can judge who wins it or not.” Says Ciro, already heading towards the direction of the river. “And you, Angus, stay in front of me. I don’t want you running away or secretly creating havoc.”

“Fine.” Angus hurriedly walks in front of Ciro, as the people from the village follow along behind.

It wasn't before long until everyone arrived at the river.

“I will count down, and then we both jump in at the same time.” Angus suggests.

“Alright, do so.” Ciro mumbles, walking up to the river.

“3, 2, 1!”

Both Angus and Ciro breathe in and jump into the river.

A couple seconds later, Ciro vision finally adjusts, and looks around, but Angus is nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, Ciro feels something around their ankle, and looks down.

There, Angus is gripping onto Ciro’s ankle, pulling them down deeper into the water.

Ciro, surprised but cannot shout, tries arduously kicking at Angus, who looks back up at Ciro with an evil grin, seemingly being able to breath perfectly fine under water.

Then, Angus lets go, and before Ciro could swim away, punches Ciro in the chest.

Ciro then understood what was happening. Angus, who could breathe well underwater, was trying to make Ciro lose by quitting sooner.

But the more Ciro tried to move away, the stronger the urge of needing air, yet if they didn't try to move away, Angus would continuously beat them. Ciro couldn’t win this one.

In the end, it was Ciro’s whos head was the first to emerge from the river. Then, there was a clear victor.

“Well, looks like there's a winner!” Shouts Angus, whose head emerged second. Everyone cheered, but now eyed Ciro with clear suspicion.

“You cheater! You fought me underwater! You could clearly breathe too!” Shouted Ciro. “This isn’t fair!”

“No, you could’ve fought back. And either way, I was both moving and fighting you, which drains more energy, after all. Clearly you're just weak, you fraud!” Angus shouted back.

“Please enough!” Someone from the crowd shouted. “It's already decided because you came out first so Angus wins, so onto the next one okay?”

“You know what, it is fine. I agree, onto the next challenge.” mumbles Ciro.

“Well now that that's settled,” Angus smirks, “The next one should be creativity. Why don’t we simply paint, and the people can judge whose painting is the most beautiful? This village can provide paint, right?”

The people of the village nodded, and everyone begun heading back.

While everyone was headed towards the village, something caught Ciro’s eye in the sky, and he stopped to look up. It seemed to be very far up in the distance, or maybe they were imagining things because they rarely ever had gazed up beyond, at their home.

Before Ciro decided to take flight and assure to see if they were really seeing things, Angus called back to Ciro.

“What, are you nervous already? Hurry up!” yelled Angus.

“Enough, I'm going.” Said Cirus, and fluttering back to the crowd.

In the center of the village stood 2 massive canvases across and facing away from each other, paints of all colors placed next to them.

“Here we are. Now, how long must we paint for?” Asks Ciro, standing in front of a canvas.

“Hm…how about an hour?” Asks Angus. “Should be enough time.”

“Okay. Then, I’ll agree, let's begin then.”

“3, 2, 1.. begin!”

Both Ciro and Angus picked up their paint brushes and got to work.

Though, Ciro didn’t know what to paint. Hesitantly, Ciro dipped their paintbrush into a random color, but still had no idea what to paint.

As time passed, 10 minutes, then 20, Angus seemed to be working productively, and people behind Angus awed at their progressing work. On the other hand, Ciro was still struggling to envision something to paint.

Soon enough, 30 minutes had passed, and still, Ciro’s canvas remained blank, not a single streak of paint on it.

Stiff from sitting with their head resting on their hand for so long, they adjust their wings. And suddenly, Ciro’s eyes widened.

It was like they had a blessing casted on themself, and Ciro began to paint on their wings.

The people of the village who were mostly behind Angus and their canvas, peaked over at Ciro to see what they were doing. And were struck with awe, doing so.

Every feather of their wing Ciro had painted was pressed onto the canvas. More and more people started to crowd behind Ciro and their art, muttering and marveling at the sight.

Angus, who looked around perplexed, wanted to see what Ciro was doing but couldn’t, so they continued their work, confused.

Soon, the hour was over and both participants were done.

“Now, let's push the canvases side by side and look at them.” Huffs Angus.

Both pushed their canvases, and the people once again cheered.

On the right, there was a painting of a rift, inside was the opening to the universe with stars and an ombre of purples, blues and blacks. This was Angus’s painting.

On the left, there was a painting using white, grays, and gold, depicting a grand castle with detailed looking feathers on the wings of numerous angels surrounding it. This was Ciro’s painting.

The people who gathered before both paintings started chattering, deciding and judging on whose painting was better as Angus and Ciro stood next to each other, one whose wings were covered in paint, and the other’s whose hands were covered in paint.

Both stood together as Angus grinned at Ciro, and as Ciro glared at Angus.

Waiting for the announced winner, Ciro's eyes drifted towards the sky again. Now, reassured that they weren't seeing things before, it looked like there was a fracture up in the sky, and had seemed to have gotten larger than that tiny speck they saw before. For some reason it looked familiar, a lot like Angus’s paint…

“Okay! We’ve made up our mind!” Someone shouted from the crowd. “We think the winner should be Ciro!”

“Oh! Thank you! Very much!” Cheered Ciro. “You all will receive my blessings!

“Ahem, you mean my blessings?” Mutters Angus. “Well anyway, congrats I guess. It's a tie now, but you're not beating me this time. Because this last challenge will be a battle.. In the air!” Angus exclaims, and with a cross of their arms, suddenly rising into the air. “This way, dear “angel”. Let's fight outside of the village’s radius!”

“Wait!” Shouted Ciro, who spread their wings and dove upwards into the air following Angus.

Ciro drew their bow and Angus revealed piercing claws, both in the air, just a couple feet in between each other..

“For this last battle, you can count down.” Says Angus, slyly grinning at Ciro.

“.Alright. Once you lose, I'll give you the honor of leaving instead of being captured. And if you don’t I will make you. All of this today has been a complete stretch.” Ciro spoke, glaring at Angus and preparing their bow.

“Why, you're so magnanimous, our dear angel! And yet so bold. Sure then! We’ll see the outcome.”

“3..2..1..!”

Ciro and Angus’s battle had begun.

From up above, barrages of arrows and the motion of swiping claws can be seen, but it’s too swift to actually make out what was happening.

A few minutes have gone by, and both Ciro and Angus separated from their duel, a wide range of space again made between them as they caught their breath, the ombre of an orange and red sunset encapsulating both of their figures.

Ciro had only tiny scratches, as Angus was bleeding from gashes on their arm and torso.

It seemed to be quite a relatively fair duel, yet a clear victor among them.

That was, until a cannonball was fired from below, directed at Ciro.

Ciro had noticed it a bit too late, being so focused on their duel. Quickly, they turned and managed to dodge it, but just as they did, Angus used that time to claw Ciro's face, and knocked Ciro with a kick with all Angus’s might down, to the village below crashing against a fruit stand.

“Haha.. caught off guard?” Asks Angus as they repeatedly claw at the defenseless Ciro, still bleeding from their face.

Ciro grunted in pain, as they were pushed again and flew back onto the wall of a cottage which shook it entirely.

“What's wrong, dear “angel”? Can’t speak? Does it hurt that bad? Well, I'm sure we can see who the clear victor is now, right? Lock this fraudulent angel up!” Angus said, raising their bloodied hand in triumph.

The people of the village were stunned and quiet. But shortly, a clap was heard. Then another. Then another, and everyone, once again cheered, as it was now clear to them who their fierce, heroine angel truly was.

Ciro, still bleeding and in pain, shakingly rose up, and watched how everyone clapped, and clapped for their very own fraud.

Then, some people with chains and metal clubs began running up to Ciro in anger. “You're a liar!” They called out. “Get them!”

Ciro, dazed by what was happening and by all the yelling and shouting that was approaching them, immediately rose up into the air and tried to fly away.

But before they could get far, they felt something had torn off from them. Ciro tremblingly turned their head to their side and realized one of their wings was ripped off, and they crashed back down into the village.

Ciro, devastatingly in pain had pulled out their bow and was ready to face Angus again, fleeing for the time being or fighting was a choice, but backing down certainly wasn't.

As Ciro turned around, they heard the shift of angry shouts now turned into ones of cries. Ciro's pupils dilated at the scene before them.

There, up in the sky, vast amounts of entities were coming from the massive fracture in the sky, it seemed to be the one that was barely so visible before, and so many were crashing and gliding down into the village or visibly dispersing into other areas of the world.

The sky was polluted with entities, and the village was polluted with chaos, and the wounded Ciro could only watch, as there were far too many to even be a threat to the violent beings.

Angus slowly descended back down from the sky and in front of Ciro, laughing at the sight of them.

“While I kept you distracted with the challenges, that fracture that I ripped into the atmosphere and crashed down from was growing larger just so they could enter in.” Says Angus cheerfully. “Many beings have wanted to infiltrate this world for so long, but you chased and fought them all away, haven’t you, dear angel? Well take a look around now. This is finally ours!” The figure before Ciro laughs and gestures to the scene around them.

“Oh, and shout out to the cannonball user, they snuck in after I fell and you didn’t notice a thing because you were so concerned about me. Hahaha…I'm flattered.”

Angus takes a couple steps closer and looks down at Ciro, who’s avoiding their glance.

“Well anyway, you’ve spent all this time so lonely, right? I mean seriously, looking after humans day and night… But you have a ton of company now. Will you graciously join us and be spared, dear angel?”

Ciro shuts their eyes tightly for a moment.

Then finally, looks up at Angus.

“No.” Speaks Ciro weakly. “I've been entrusted to this world by a deity greater than you and I, and I've fulfilled my duty to the lands of this world anyway for all that time… so you all will soon perish as well.”

“Hahaha.. Foolish angel. Sure.. whatever you say. Suit yourself then..” Angus mutters, now raising their claws at the frail, wounded angel.

Ciro, defeated, takes one final glance at the havoc around them before their execution, centuries of effort and dedication deceased. Now, they could only kneel solemnly but in misery. The blessing of eternal peace diminished, and the world currently in pure chaos, a cataclysmic curse.

(This is an updated version I revised some parts, please read my bio/enjoy!)

(This was meant to have more of a childish/fairytale tone.)

There once was a little highness.

The little highness lived in a little castle. A castle that was in the center of a village.

This village atmosphere was always so alive and cheerful.

But the little highness was always scared of being around their people.

This time, the little highness wanted to change. The little highness wanted to understand and feel the same way the village felt, so the little highness went to seek out and make some friends.

The little highness during their walk in a little park found a kid, standing there, lonely.

“Do you want to be friends?” The little highness asked the boy.

“Um.. ok.” Says the boy.

The little highness then went on, day after day trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the boy around.

But the boy for some reason always seemed distant from the little highness.

The little highness typically was the one who asked the boy if they wanted to play.

The little highness typically was the one who tried to induce conversations with

the boy.

But the boy still seemed to stay distant, never making their presence aware for the little highness anytime the little highness tried or couldn’t find them, and sometimes even ignored the little highness.

At last, the little highness thought that maybe the boy just didn’t like them.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness also felt annoyed.

Then came the shout of the big highness, who lived in the little highness's head.

“YOU'RE JUST BORING!” Big highness shouted.

“OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU.”

“Please stop! That can’t be true! I can’t be boring!” The little highness shouted back.

The big highness retaliated. “FINE. GO TRY TO MAKE MORE FRIENDS. I WILL PROVE YOU WRONG.”

The little highness, reluctant to agree with the big highness, decided to try again.

The little highness took a walk in the park again, and this time, found a little girl, standing there, lonely.

“Do you want to be friends?” The little highness asked.

“Well, ok.” Says the girl.

The little highness then went on for the entire afternoon, trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the girl around.

But the next day, the girl seemed distant.

She seemed to be looking for someone else to keep her company. She seemed to be uninterested with the little highness, as she swayed her head from the left to the right.

And then, the little highness saw a prince walk up to her. The girl then smiled brightly, laughing, chatting, and walking away with the prince.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness also felt confused.

“Why can’t I make friends?” The little highness wondered in perplexity.

Then came the shout of the big highness who lived in the little highness’s head.

“YOU'RE JUST BORING!” the big highness shouted.

“OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU!”

“No! That can’t be true!” The little highness yelled back, but this time with an uncertainty that made their voice tremble.

The big highness again, retaliated. “FINE. TRY ONE MORE TIME, AND YOU’LL SEE I'M RIGHT!”

The little highness, this time quietly replied “Okay. I will try again.”

The little highness wandered into the park one more time, and for this time, found a group of people.

“Come! Join us!” The group of people told the little highness.

The little highness delightedly joined the group of people.

But something was wrong.

The little highness then went on, still trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the group, wanting to continue being friends with them.

The little highness struggled to find interesting things to say.

The little highness struggled to find funny things to say.

The little highness struggled to seem relevant.

Then, the little highness seemed distant to the group, as the little highness avoided them in fear of the group not liking them already.

Then, the little highness started trying to seem uninterested when alone, which confused themself on why they were doing that.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness just sighed.

“What am I lacking?” The little highness wondered, in disconcertment.

Then came the shout of the big highness who lived in the little highness’s head.

“YOU ARE JUST BORING!” The big highness shouted.

“YOU AREN'T INTERESTING!”

“YOU AREN’T RELEVANT!”

“YOU’RE JUST UNFUNNY!”

“NO ONE ADMIRES YOUR MUNDANE PRESENCE!”

“WALLOW IN YOUR OWN SOLITUDE!”

“...BECAUSE OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU!”

“Please stop! No more! I don’t want to hear it anymore! I want to be funny!” The little highness yelled, finally having enough.

“I want to be important! I want to be charismatic! I want to be relevant! I want to be interesting! I want to be good at this too! Why can’t I fit in with these people?”

The little highness, in frustration of themself, decided to go back into their castle, and sat there, pondering.

Day and nights have gone by, and the little highness still sat there,

Desperately trying to perceive what they're doing wrong.

Desperately trying to understand how to eradicate what they believe is their awfully irritating impairment.

And over and over, the little highness can hear big highness’s shouts, no matter how closely they press their hands against their ears,

desperately trying to not let big highness’s seeds of doubt grow any further.

As the little highness had lie down, they realized something. It felt as if this particular sorrow was familiar, a very nostalgic feeling. Why did the little highness rarely leave the castle in the first place? It was hard for them to remember.

One night, the little highness is found continuing to lay on their bed, mulling over the same things they have for the previous days.

“Why am I different from those people? Was I born like this?”

The same questions resurfacing again and again,

Until the little highness hears a voice.

This time, it wasn’t internal shouting. It sounded different, comforting almost.

“How sad… don’t take this as such a big deal. Stop complaining over this nonsense, you’re a highness, dear.” Says the voice.

“Who are you?” The little highness’s head shoots up, and asks.

“I am here. Look behind you.” The voice replied.

The little highness turned around and saw a ghost who looked just like the little highness.

“I am the ghost of this castle. You’ve been ruminating over and over about the same things for such a while. Aren’t you tired, little one??” The ghost questioned, as the translucent being floated in front of the little highness.

“I am.. but,” Says the little highness as they sigh, rising up onto their feet. “I won’t leave the castle until I figure out the remedy to this… ailment. I refuse!”

The ghost grimaces at the little highness in pity.

Then flows towards them, and suddenly the little highness feels warmth around them, as the ghost embraces the little highness in a consoling gesture, a nurturing hug.

The little highness eyes widened in confusion feeling as though their heart stopped.

Then, the little highness feels their shoulder ease.

And then the little highness cries.

The little highness sobs, still captured within the ghosts consoling arms. Everything they’ve felt within the previous days worth of tears surging out of the little highness, akin to a heartfelt tsunami.

“There, there.” The ghost says in a calm tone, letting go of the little highness and wiping their tears.

“There, there. Don’t worry, I’m here for you, dear highness.”

“I don’t know what to do. It feels as though I’m always alone no matter how hard I try.” Mumbles the little highness, staring at the wooden ground.

“This is why I’m here, child. I can help you if you trust in me.” The ghost says. “All you have to do is follow me.”

“You can? Really?” Asks the little highness looking up at the ghost. The gaze of desperation.

“Only if you want me to. Seeing you in such a despairful state is pitiful. I can help you redeem your worth, and give you the purpose you're chasing.”

The little highness fixated on the ghost. It's true, they didn’t want to stay here in the castle, lonely and contemplating on why they are. Big highness had asked them before…: what if they were always bound to be alone, no matter how much they thought, trying to find a solution? No matter how hard they tried to think of ways to keep people around. No, not even if all the stars far above the castle roofs aligned and formed an illuminating celestial symphony, would they ever fit in?

“Okay.” Says the royalty.

“I’ll trust you so please… help me.”

“Very well, dear. Please follow me.”

So the little highness finally decided to follow the ghost, hoping for their answer to be in reach. The ghost led the little highness up the castle’s long spiral of stairs, and finally halted at the top balcony.

“Look down at the village.” The ghost says.

“This village is beautiful isn’t it? Look at the very peaceful people of the village sleeping soundly.”

The little highness looks out over the village under the dark sky, breathing in the chilly air, and taking in the calmness of the night.

“Do you like your village, little highness?” Asked the ghost, turning their head.

“...I love my village. Even if I feel like this. My village is all I’ve ever known. I look down from my window everyday. I see the people laughing.. selling fruits… trading goods… just being a community.”

“I see. So you love your village a lot… but look, over there.” Says the ghost, pointing towards a cottage down below in the distance.

Then, a bright light shined, and suddenly booms, throwing the cottage into a chaos of flames.

The little highness’s expression turns into one of dismay as they oversee the fire quickly spreading.

“What.. oh my… what happened! Where did that come from? I must do something!” The little highness shouts frantically.

But before the little highness could think to dash out, the ghost stretched their hand out before the little highness, as the little highness turned around facing the ghost, back against the railing of the balcony.

“What are you doing?” The little highness asks, confuzzled as their heart pounds in urgency.

“Not so fast dear.” The ghost spoke, looking into the little highnesses eyes, the gaze of soulless life. “This, is what you wanted.” The ghost answers.

“What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re… what are you trying to do?” The little highness asks the ghost, as their eyes flicker between the ghost’s eyes and the ghost’s hand.

“You don’t understand? Let me explain darling.” Mutters the ghost.

“You want to be interesting. You want to be important. You want to be liked. You want people to be swarming around you. You want to be amusing.” The ghost says slowly.

“You want company and recognition, am I wrong? The way you were eager to make friends.. You want people to feel the same eagerness with you.”

“Please.. What is going on!” The little highness shouts in terror as the people of the village awaken and begin to holler.

“Little highness. Dear, little highness.” The ghost starts, staring calmly at the little highness, almost as if in reassurance.

“I will push you from this balcony and you will fall. After your body hits the ground, your soul will turn into a cloud. A rain cloud. A rain cloud that will disperse all the fire and save your people. You wanted to be admired, recognized, liked, and you will be remembered. You will be all those things, people will praise you for saving them. People will marvel at the sight of your graceful rain drops, companying you with sounds of rejoice. And people will bury your body, remembering your bravery.”

The little highness stood there in silence but trembling, as the little highness stared at the ghost, listening to their words carefully.

Then, the little highness finally speaks.

“I’ll be liked.. I'll be admired..? Really?” The little highness says as their voice shakes, and with an expression of uncertainty.

“Yes.” The ghost replied, slowly enclosing the gap between its hands and the little highness’s head.

“Be the rain. The beautiful, glistening rain, and their savior. Rain on the people and the people’s admiration and gratefulness will be shown, it will blossom so brightly it will illuminate even the darkest of skies. Even brighter than that fire. You are no longer irrelevant as you are their savior. You are no longer unamusing as they will gleefully smile and laugh when they see the sight of your cloud and inevitable gift. You are no longer boring, as your rain will give birth to the beautifulest of floras across the village and disperse their current life threatening issue. Rain down your water and their love shower you. And no one will do that, better than you.”

“...I, Wait! Why do-” Says the little highness.

But before the little highness could finish, the ghost pushed them off the balcony.

“You must save them quickly. The fire spreads fast. And now… I have fulfilled my promise!” Says the ghost.

“Now, you aren’t little. Or big. you can be simply, just right.”

The ghost says, as their words fade.

But just as the little highness took their last glance at the ghost. But there was no one there glancing at them right back.

Now, the little highness nonetheless was falling.

And falling.

It seemed like the little highness would fall forever.

But before the little highness hit the ground, they thought again.

“Why… Do I have to sacrifice my body, a part of me, to be liked? To finally be.. appreciated?”

“To finally be important to people? To have company? To be just right? No, I don’t want to… I just want to be liked for the little highness… I am.”

The little highness body hits the ground below with a thud, the horrid noise shattering in the background of the flame’s crackles and the hollering in the night.

As the little highness’s body lies below, a faint, wispy cloud begins to rise from it. The cloud grows bigger and bigger darkening as it blocks out the light of the moon. Thunder rumbles in the distance,

and the first drops of rain begin to fall.

There, up in the dark sky, you’ll find the “just right” highness. Their highness in the sky, serving as a rain cloud as dignified as the relief it produces, and as dark as its embodiment.

(Ty for reading even if you found it a bit cringy haha!)