• When angels join the ranks of heaven.
    They enter gods' loving embrace.
    But sometimes those that rise,
    Eventually fall from grace.
    I do as I must for the sake of mankind,
    While shedding these tears of blood.
    These things I do I do with love,
    All for the greater good.
    ~ Sirius~
    Excerpt from the poem 'Tragedy of a Mad Angel'

    Chapter One: Origin of the Risen

    The Russian landscape is both beautiful and terrible in its vast nothingness. It is a cruel mistress of frigid winds and breathtaking sunsets. She is harsh and unforgiving with her violent storms of ice and snow, yet tragically sweet when her ardor is cooled and the blanketed silence overtakes her foul temper. It is here in this land where we must make a living, where generations of ancestors have before us braved her rages like the hearty race we are.

    I was born and raised in a town not but a few days away from our fair capitol itself, though only matters of great importance required one to make such a trip. It wasn't a city by any means, we had the basics and a few luxuries, certainly better off than the small villages out in the tundra that struggled daily to get by. No, we were very thankful for the factories and fields that gave our eldest brother work, and allowed I and my sister warm clothes and food our mother cooked in our bellies. Alas, I get ahead of myself. I have rambled enough of old times without introducing myself or the rest of the people that matter in this abysmal tale.

    My name is Sirius Sidorov. I am the middle child in my small family, where this tragedy started, and filled with fresh loving ideals. I had a child's curiosity of the world, and an adolescents views on the day to day chores of life. Our mother was a beautiful sweet natured woman, lines of tragedy aging her young face. My dear loving father had past years ago, leaving my elder brother Yuri to take care of I and my sister and claim the role of man of the house.

    My dear brother, the hard worker and bread winner, who had to grow up too young to raise his younger siblings. Yuri did so with a distant smile and bared it, though he would come home from work weary at a late hour only to get up early again the next morning to spend another full day. He forsook his schooling that had been his joy, his goal to be a well renowned something or other that would free our family from poverty now crushed by life's tragedies.Always there, our backbone, making sure we scraped enough together to keep the home our parents had made for us.

    Which leads me to my light in the dark, my sweet delicate Leila. Our little sister who held the precociousness of any child, though her face was starting to lose its baby fat as I had when I had hit the years of pre adolescence. She was a girl-child, a small happy sprite that laughed easily and was never prone to tantrums. When the winter was hard and her cough resurfaced, she would smile easily as though she had no care in the world, coughing delicately into a small rag to hide pained winces.

    All three of us were uniquely different in coloring, though each of us bared traits from our parents. Yuri resembled father most, with his deep auburn red hair and emerald green eyes. Leila had the eyes of polished ice, though her hair was more muted and delicately dark, like the deep red of mulled wine. She was fine boned and delicate, as our mother had been, and while I was just as fine boned, yet I shared little of the frailty that my sister had inherited. I alone had my mother's sky blue eyes, sharing with Yuri our father's hair, and though some separated us as a whole, our other features melded us together just as strongly as our blood.

    We lived together in our small home contentedly, with its drafty loose boards and uneven flooring for years, making ends meet and repairs when we could afford. I tried to find work myself but I was always 'too young' or 'i had to let my muscles grow a bit' first. It aggravated me to no end but Yuri just laughed at my sincerity and told me to leave the adult worries to him. And so I did, instead turning my attention to our little flower in the frozen tundra.

    If Leila wanted to go out, we bundled her as much as possible and I escorted her everywhere. We two were often inseparable, be it at school or out after in the Russian landscape. Often, the boys at school teased me for my attachment to my little sister, making fun of the soft features I shared with her. But my Leila always but her tiny fists on her hips and told them off.

    Our town's doctor had called her illness an incurable ailment, that came and went with nature's whims. He prescribed warm clothes in cold weather and plenty of nutritious meals to help her body fight the tiny demons that plagued her. In the early 1800's, that was all they knew of illnesses like pneumonia and the like. We had no money to take her to a city, and we feared the ride to it would make her worse. And so we watched her closely and sheltered her from the worst of it with all that we could. Had modern medicine been around then my poor sweet Leila may not have took a turn for the worse, the winter of my 14th year.

    Yuri was nineteen then, and our wily sprite had turned thirteen the previous summer, happy with the new woolen dress we had scrimped to buy her for the oncoming winter. It complemented her nicely and though our pockets were reasonably lighter, so were our hearts at the pleased smiles we received from little Leila. It had been nice to find something warm that would look well on her, a stroke of ironic luck I guess looking back upon it.

    The winter hit earlier than normal, and by only a few weeks in we could tell that it was going to be a harsh one, temperatures dropping dramatically. Winter howled at our doors, clawing at pits and cracks with it's icy fingers. Everyone shuttered their doors and windows, venturing out only to make it to and from work and necessities. Even the bar was silent and dark, not even the roughest mountaineer venturing in for a bite of stomach warming vodka.

    Though Leila voiced no complaint, her cough grew steadily worse as the cold days progressed, her normally bubbly personality fading into a calm demeanor. Yuri had been the first to notice her change, though I was not far behind as she steadily decreased in activity, choosing instead to spend her days by the hearth with our domesticated mother, who cherished this quiet time with her ailing daughter.

    By mid winter the house was heavy with anxiety and sadness, our little sister having retired permanently to her small room and taking up constant residence in her bed. . As before the doctor could do no more, save giving her something to help with the pain the chest racking coughs instilled. Mother tried to be brave but only managed so much, her soft weeping from her room late at night a testament to her grief.

    It was here that I noticed something odd in my brother's behavior, more so during his interactions with our smaller sibling as they carried onto her demeanor. Where once he would spend hours by her bedside after work, retiring only for the barest amount of sleep, he now retreated to the solace of his own room almost immediately after returning from his job. The sympathy and care that was once so vivid in his rich green eyes was overshadowed by another emotion, something I could not pinpoint but nonetheless instilled great worry within me.

    Less than a week after I noticed the change, I woke in the early morning light to a guttural wail within the house. I was on my feet and out of my room before I even registered the voice to be my mother. My feet stopped me at the door way to Leila's room, where my mother lay half across the bed and clinging to my sister's form. In my heart I knew what had happened. But it still didn't stop me from asking in a small voice what was wrong. It made my mother cry even harder and eventually I left my trepidation and closed in on the bed. My mother moved up from her perch as I approached, clinging to me as soon as I was in reach, her hot salty tears dampening my mussed bedclothes.

    I held onto her automatically when she sagged against me in her despair, staring at the small figure on the bed in shock. She looked pale, even against our threadbare blankets and bedding, eyes closed as though she slept uninterrupted. I couldn't look away from her peaceful form, drinking in each minute detail as if she would disappear the moment I turned away.

    My heart was deeply pained by this revelation, that though I should be happy she was finally without pain, I was selfish with the want of my sister back. Regardless of her well-being right now my heart clenched in a deep ache, it prayed to see those twinkling aquamarine eyes open and greet the day with her normal smile. My thoughts were interrupted by a creak from behind, and I finally gathered the strength to break my gaze away to regard Yuri, who's normally warm eyes were flat and dull.

    Those void filled eyes spoke volumes, as he made no move to come comfort our heart sick mother, who continued to cry without abandon into my nightshirt. Her wails grew louder as he quietly spoke to the room of his plans to go inform the doctor and other necessaries of our sisters passing, leaving as quickly as he'd come. I knew what he meant when he said other necessaries, and it sickened me to hear it said so callously in front of mother.
    My eyes stayed dry, my heart shut up and locked away as I comforted our mother, moving her to her own room as people arrived and traveled into Leila's room. Yuri cared for everything that needed arranging and I lost myself in making our mother comfortable, and presentable when the funeral came days later.

    My movements were decidedly mechanical as I went through the motions, arriving to the funeral while clutched like a lifeline by mother. Her rich blue eyes were continuously watery, but when someone approached she seemed to gather herself enough to stand proud and take their condolences in stride. Yuri glided through the mourners like a wraith, the crowds inherently parting as though they knew it was safer than engaging him in conversation. He patted mother on the shoulder as he passed, one of his only kindnesses since that morning.

    Many came to dote upon me, especially the womenfolk of the town. The pair that were never separated now torn apart by the gap of life and death. The older ladies whispered how tragic it was when they thought I couldn't hear. I despised their wagging tongues and cold hands pinching my cheeks, the fake hugs and prods for gossip. It was suffocating, I couldn't take it.

    I burst free from my mothers grasp and left the shelter of our home and its heavy mood, racing down the path towards the small church that we had carried an even smaller pine box to. I don;t remember when the tears had started, I couldn't feel them as I ran down the rocky road into the cemetery proper. The sky that had been calm this morning for the burial was now laying down a soft layer of snow upon the ground. Covering the freshly turned dirt with a blanket of powder.

    I dropped to my knees with a mournful cry, letting out all of the pent up pain and sadness that had built not only since my sweet Leila's death but since her sickness had worsened as well. I cried for the loss of her sweet smiles and tinkling laughter, her strong sense of justice and her love of adventure. I sat for almost an hour in the cold, barely registering the cold on my cheeks or the shiver that found its way into my bones. All I could look at was the pitifully small grave mark for my winter rose, how it hardly did her justice.

    My brother came upon me silently, standing enough distance away that showed his respect for my privacy. I silently wiped my tears and with one last pat to the snow covered ground stood, turning to meet his tightly shuttered gaze. I was used to his far away treatment but this new completely frigid treatment was unnerving and saddening. His gaze flickered for a moment and I could see my old brother again, eyes alight with a guilty sadness.

    I went to him then, wrapping my arms around him tightly, abandoning my teenage aloofness and going back to the ages of childhood, where brothers could easily embrace. I held my breath with a numbing anxiousness, praying he wouldn't push me away and instead grant me this sibling touch I needed. Almost timidly I felt his arms come around me and I exhaled in relief, holding on childishly as though he would be taken from me as well if I let go.

    After a few moments I could feel his unease at being confined and so I let go, backing up to look up his long willowy frame into his face. He ruffled my hair softly and gestured to the road, asking silently if I was ready. The quiet unnerved me at first but I figured it was his way of dealing with our loss and forgave him. In answer I turned towards it and headed down at a slow walk, waiting for him to follow.

    Our trip back was silent but I appreciated that quiet to gather my thoughts and Yuri seemed content to let me. I was confused at his earlier break in emotional abstinence. Had the guilt I saw in his eyes stemmed from his coldness that morning? Did he regret his harshness whilst dealing with mama? The questions plagued me for days before I found an answer.

    Life returned slowly to our small house as it did to the melting landscape around us. Mama did her best to move on, for our sake as well as hers, but nothing could salve the healing wounds of a child going to the grave. She smiled and talked and laughed as she used to, but some of that warmth never quite reached her eyes. On late nights in our home when it was at its most silent, I could catch the faintest of sobs not quite hidden in the depths of a pillow.

    I lasted almost a month before I could take my brother's guilty glances no longer. Constantly I spied him staring remorsefully at the doorway into our sister's old room. While I myself had spent much time looking in at the abandoned bed, missing my little sister, I did not have the same feelings in my gazes. One night, when mother had retired for the evening I confronted him about it.

    He waved it off, citing that he was tired and didn't want to talk about it. His easy dismissal of me while I was trying to be sympathetic irked me and I pressed the matter. It quickly grew to a heated argument, both of us whispering harshly so as not to disturb our mother. I followed him into his room away from the main area, unwilling to let his argument slide.

    It continued until his walls bled down and he slumped to the bed, his face in his hands. His detachment at our sister's death was from his own grief and he told me a story I never expected to hear. Leila had appeared like a tiny ghost in his room the night before her death, trembling from the exertion to make the small trip from her own room to his. She begged him through a fit of coughing to help her with the pain. He went to grab her medicine but she stopped him with a tug on his nightshirt.

    'No.' Our sprite said, voice hoarse from misuse. 'It doesn't help anymore brother. I need something else.' Comprehension dawned on him and he steadfastly refused, but Leila begged relentlessly, eventually succumbing to a painful bout of coughing that left her sliding to the floor. Yuri picked her up and took her to bed, tucking her in gently as she protested weakly the whole while.
    Eventually she calmed after another bout of chest wracking coughs, slipping fitfully to sleep.Yuri described watching her sleep, a war raging within as he bent to kiss her brow. His hands moved down to lightly grasp an errant pillow, picking up the plush thing and with a shuddery sigh he moved it down to our sisters face.

    I couldn't look at him as he finished his dark tale, shaking with quiet rage as I was. It took mere moments to gather my thoughts and with a wordless yell I threw myself upon him, battering at him with my small fists. He took the harmless beating quietly, waiting until I ran out of steam to grab me by the arms and haul me up. I yelled in his face that I hated him for taking Leila away and that I'd never forgive him, eventually waking our mother who ran in asking the matter.

    I eyed my brother, chest heaving as I struggled from his grasp, passing my mother with a mumbled excuse. It would break my mother's heart to know Leila hadn't given into her disease but had instead asked our brother to free her from her painful life. I turned my hatred solely to my brother, growing distant and sullen whenever interaction with him was required.

    Two years passed in what seemed like an instant. I found I cared for nothing when it had none of my sister's energy placed into it. I was pleasant to my mother when she required me, but I became cold and distant to my classmates and most outsiders, instead visiting places Leila and I had ventured to in solitude. At first my adversity was questioned and even taunted, but when I didn't rise to the bait even the hardest bully eventually left me to my own devices.

    By the winter of my sixteenth year I had become a shell of my former self, answering only direct questions and never putting thought into conversations around me. I cared little for love blossoming around me in my schooling, leaving as soon as I was able and only returning to my home to eat and sleep. Even then I only did enough to keep going the next day. I ignored the gossiping old biddes I passed around town as they snatched upon my melancholy like a murder of crows.

    The winter's storms this year were reminiscent of the ones two years previous, leaving me stuck in the oppressiveness that was our household. Mother delighted in my captivity, spending as much time as she could with her 'lost son'. I suppose I regretted abandoning her in my anger towards my brother, allowing her to coddle me to make up in a way for my cold shoulder.

    MY brother and I continued our evasiveness of each other through it all, something my mother watched unhappily as the season passed. Eventually she worked up the courage to corner us at dinner one evening, as a snowstorm gathered on the horizon. We each gave small non committal answers, which my mother wouldn't have.

    I was already agitated from having to hole up due largely to the weather, and my mother pressing for answers wasn't really helping my temper. A snide comment from my brother was the last straw and I shoved my chair back from the table, seething.

    'If you want to know, ask him about what really happened to Leila!' With that last scathing remark I stormed out into the darkening twilight, grabbing my coat and scarf as I left. The winds were quiet for the moment, but snow was already falling, I would have to make my walk quick if I wanted to get home before anything too bad started to fall.

    Without noticing my I looked up to find my feet carrying me the long lone stretch down to the cemetery. I hadn't visited lately and felt almost ashamed in my absence, quickly turning down the silent rows to find my sister's small marker. It was there as it always was and unabashed I sat down in front of it, placing a palm lovingly on the earth as the snow thickened around me.

    I sat there in the calm quiet for many minutes, eventually getting up the nerve to tell my sister of the fight I had just waged in her honor. It was easy to pretend she was there, listening intently like she used to. The air picked up slowly as the storm came on, and yet I held my spot stubbornly, unwilling to leave my story half told to my long gone audience.

    I think I must have realized minutes later when I couldn't feel the cold anymore that it was too late. I vaguely recall laying down atop the snow that mere feet below held my Tundra Rose, whispering that I would see her soon. Mother had Yuri to dote on her and care for her, I was just a sullen mouth to feed. They wouldn't miss me.

    As the heavily falling snow covered me like a soothing blanket, I fought to keep my eyes open. I remember feeling lighter hearted than I had in a long time, somehow happy that I could finally rest well with my sister so close to me this night. I wanted the feeling to last as my thoughts grew fuzzy and the thin crack of sight finally closed, leaving me with a floating sensation that stole me away with one final thought before everything was gone.


    Would I find Leila soon?