Whispers of The Dusk

Beings of myth and legend, born from infernos and into which scorching desert winds are breathed into their lungs. Although liquid gold runs in their blood, angels lack the mere beating of the heart. An eternity is a long time to be dead and alive at the same time. Your body is as cold as your corpse when they buried you, and your face is set in the deathlike pallor of when you closed your eyes for the last time. But life in paradise is great, it's just like how they describe it; every pleasure and desire in the palm of your hands, albeit for a tiny fee: Unlike departed humans, you can't love. Dantalion was just one of God's many other creations. His hair was spun from the light of the universe, like all other angels. His eyes were gold, like all other angels. He was made perfect, like all other angels. One evening, he chances upon someone, wings as black as the twilight sky and hair like flowing ink. He's captivated. And for a moment, just a millisecond, he feels his heart pulse. Witness the fall of an angel and their descent into the forbidden, caressed carefully by the whispers of the dusk. One of legend's greatest fables and enigmas, as it's never been told before.