Isakael

Isakael was flying to the beach trying to contain the fire which was burning his hands. Every time it was the same, they would make a mess in the house, he would fix it. He would get annoyed without wanting to complain to them more than he already did and then his hands would start burning. He would pretend to be too annoyed to stay in the same room, walk to his bedroom, lock the door behind himself trying not to melt it and escape through the window. It didn't remember exactly when the first time was. He just knew that it had been happening for few weeks now, maybe up to two months. Every time he was feeling something intense, he was burning. 

He landed on his knees near the water and plunged his hands in it, burying them in the ground. The water started to boil, vapor raising above the surface. It was the only way to stop it. He couldn't control it. He had seen demons controlling fire before, but he was an angel, this wasn't part of his attributions. He could heal others, taking their pain at the same time which he thought was particularly unfair seeing that demons could move around healing others as well as themselves without any retributions. He could move things around without touching them and make people's fear disappear by whispering, even though the latest was still really hard for him and mostly failing. But there was no way he could deal with fire. It was a demon power, an elemental power. He wondered if he was changing. If being around humans and demons for so long had finally caught up with him. For the past few weeks he had been observing is wings, counting the feathers to see if he was losing them more than usual. It didn't seem like it. If he was to turn into a demon, he thought that the most obvious change would be his wings. He had very large white wings, at time they were even giving him backache. Demons' wings where smaller and lighter and feathers deprived. They were also changing colors all the time so that you could almost always know what was on their mind.

Nobody could know what was on his mind, maybe nobody even cared. He really hated being an angel. He had to be nice and helpful all the time because that's what others expected from him. If he wasn't he had reflection like "I didn't know angels could be so mean", "Are you really an angel?" "Aren't you ashame of giving a bad reputation to angels" and so on and so on...

It wasn't angels, it was him, he was mean at time like every one else, he was really an angel that didn't mean he had to be perfect or accept to serve people all the time, he wasn't responsible for angels reputation, only for his own. He wouldn't have minded being a bad angel if people had stopped saying angel in their complains. He was feeling like a weak person who had to struggle for the impossible task of making everybody happy. And he knew there was no way to do that.

He sighed taking his hands out of the water in relief, the pain was gone. He held a piece of glass in his hand, it was beautiful and colorful. Every time his feelings made his hands burn he had created one and he was collecting them, as if they were the pieces of his life's puzzle.

Isakael is one of the characters of Demon Soul