Music Recommendation: Windmills by Ludwig Goransson

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It was evident that Calhoun was no ordinary person and his lineage was stronger than it appeared to one's naked eye.

By the time Calhoun had closed the lid of the cemented coffin for his mother to rest, the time of dusk had passed, and the night had pulled over the sky.

Home wasn't home anymore, and instead, it was nothing but a space left with nothing but memories. Not wanting to return, Calhoun now sat on one of the building roofs in the town that belonged to Madame Fraunces. The crescent moon shone down on the lands of the Devon while some parts held darkness. It was the time of midnight, and the town was peaceful without a sound of carriage nor a chirp of the bird or people's chatter.

Calhoun sat with one of his legs folded up while another leg was stretched long to rest. With an old bottle of liquor that sat next to him, he looked at the sky, devising plans on what he wanted to do. After a while, he heard the footsteps from behind him, and he asked,

"You didn't go to sleep?"

"I thought you could make use of some company," replied Theodore, his eyes fell on the bottle of liquor, and he came to sit next to the bottle. When he picked up the bottle and was ready to take a sip from it, Theodore realized the bottle was empty. His hands fished into his pocket and pulled out a cigar, and placed it on his lips. When he was lighting up the one end of the cigar, he heard Calhoun ask him,

"What are you doing here? There seems to be much more to you than what you lead on."

Calhoun's eyes that were looking at the sky moved to the corner to look at Theodore, who pulled both his legs close to him so that he could let his hands rest on his knees.

Theodore said, "I think everyone views a person differently. I don't know where I come from. I didn't know who my parents were and I grew up in the streets and learned about the world." He brought the cigar up to his lips that he cradled between his long fingers. Dragging the smoke through his mouth, he blew it up in the air, "One was a vampire while the other was a demon."

"Did you ever try to get into contact with them?" questioned Calhoun, his eyes moved back to look at the town, his eyes fell on some of the dark alleys.

Theodore smiled, a polite smile forming on his lips, and he said, "I did. I was curious, and like any other person, I wanted to know who had abandoned me or if I was separated from them. But it seemed like it was the first one, a woman who was too ashamed to call me as her own, and the man who didn't want to do anything with either of us as he had a family of his own."

The smile on his lips fell, and his red eyes turned sullen. He brought the cigar back to his lips, taking another drag and letting the smoke pass through his lips.

"Madam Fraunces found me on the street and took me in. Fixing me up," said Theodore.

Calhoun moved back so that he could lay down against the tilted roof, staring at the luminous moon that looked sad and lonely up in the sky.

"Seems like people don't like to own up to the consequences caused by their actions," responded Calhoun, "With your work and reputation, it looks like you would have saved enough money for yourself. Why not quit and start something else?"

"I didn't find anything worth working for," replied Theodore, "We all look for some purpose in our lives, to fulfill it, and if it isn't good enough, it is never worth it. This job...it is not viewed kindly, which you already are aware of. People find temporary love, a friend, a companion, a way to spend their remaining hours of their life without loneliness. It isn't close to the purpose, but there's some satisfaction I receive in here, it's a different kind."

But there was more to Theodore's words…

He then turned his head to look at Calhoun, "And I think I found my purpose," he offered Calhoun a smile.

"You want to help me," murmured Calhoun, who had closed his eyes, feeling the breeze. Even though he had emptied the whole bottle of liquor, he was still in his senses and he wasn't able to drown the pain and miserable feeling as he didn't have the power.

Theodore had never witnessed such magnificent wings until now, and he had an inkling that Calhoun was something different than the rest of the people who walked on these lands, and he didn't know why, but he felt as if he had found the purpose he had been looking for.

Demons had bat-like wings, but they didn't come with feathers. The woman with whom he once slept with, she was a demoness, one that belonged to the first level demon, hiding from someone, but he didn't question her. She had told him that the feathers were something that only an angel possessed. The woman had said,

'The feather signifies purity, patience, strong will. Though there are many more qualities these are the main ones. The wings on the demons back are bare because they lack it, they don't hold the strength an angel does.'

To her words, Theodore had chuckled, 'Aren't you looking down at yourself by saying it?'

'It is what it is.'

'Do you think there is a person like that ever existed? What about the Devil? Stories tell he was an angel,' he asked her and she smiled.

'Once the Devil turned his back by doing unfathomable things in the living world, the gates had closed for him. He was on the bad side, doing things a demon did, so he doesn't have the feathers. Even if it meant he was once an angel,' explained the demoness without much thought, 'To have feathers grow back on a demon's back, one can only imagine the person to be powerful. But such a thing doesn't exist.'

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