The Book of Stories

People falling, stricken by death in a single second, as their lives leave to become one with the battlefield. A broken angel crying, blessing one by one the perished souls. On her chest, the red-eye burns, illuminating each time a different warrior is deceased. "Why does this keep going ?" She thinks, "How can humans be so cruel ?" From the blue sapphire tingling on top of her heart, she draws her magic. A white, warm, light appears in her hand, as she draws it towards the sky, she whispers a phrase: "Et Erit Lux"*. The light becomes larger, and as it flows towards the sky hidden by clouds, it bathes the soldier in pureness. They all look up, at the angel looking at them with melancholy. She snaps her fingers and the darkness suddenly disappears. The clouds are being chased by the little sphere of luminosity who makes a trail behind itself. A trail of stars. Stars shining by millions in the harmonious sky. The angel can see the soldiers staring at the beauty she made, and as she turns around and flies to rejoin her people, a smile, faint but present, appeared on her face. "Would the soldiers stop ?" She asked herself. And when she finally was out of view, the soldiers on the ground looked at each other, put their weapons down and walked away, back to their own home.