Tharkas gazed upon the human world and his fiery amber eyes reflected the brightness of her soul.
He was a half-demon, but his stare as demonic as his mother’s. Looking closely enough, one might notice the slightest sparkle of humanity there. Tharkas did his best to hide his human part from the Realm; Even though he was treated like any other demon, he knew he was regarded as a mere halfblood. An outcast. He had learned to accept it.
Demons exist forever, even those who are not fullblooded like himself, and he had watched her, a human, for decades, never risking to go close to her, so she would not be tainted by his demonic presence. Tharkas often wondered if it was his human half that had him notice her soul among so many others.
Not daring to touch perfection, he limited himself to observe her while she lived her life, grew up, fell in love, had children, started growing old. Through time, his fascination with her never diminished, but his solitude grew as she approached the end of her existence. Strange as it may seem, the years he had been observing her were the less lonely he had had.
Her body, winkled and scarred from the passing of time, of life and its events, was becoming more frail each day. Even her lively eyes.
As he knew her time was near, Tharkas also knew he had to do something before her soul was forever lost. He looked up to the crimson and blue above him, spread his hellish wings and headed to the one place someone might help him.
The Realm where angel wings filled the skies.