Even in the darkest hour just a simple light can be enough to ignite hope

Shit
The aura hit him out of nowhere and he felt the hairs on his arms stand up in shock and overall panic. Couldn't he go anywhere without having this aura pop-up every now and then? He hardly got stuff done these days; stuff he wanted to do to take his mind off of the constant unpleasantries his life had turned into. But mainly stuff he wanted to do to stop feeling that horribly nagging misery of the shame he was carrying around. The shame was so all consuming that he had no idea what to do with it but to push it away. Just like he wanted to push this very particular aura away.
With a panicked, mumbled 'hnng'-groan, Remy closed his eyes. He damned himself for hesitating once again before trying to focus the wilderness of his thoughts on some place nice. The forest. His clouded mind didn't properly specify exactly where it wanted to go before he teleported.

Teleporting somewhere unspecified was always a little painful so when he popped out of thin air, a good five meters above the ground, he let out a frustrated shout. Then he fell.
A new surge of panic hit him as he realised he was mid air and the frustrated shout turned to a panicked yelp, as he pushed out his wings; ripping his white linen shirt open, to stop him from falling and hitting something har-
Splash!
He was ever so close to swearing loudly and heavily but kept it inside, where he instead let out yet another frustrated shout. How much did his life absolutely suck!? A pond. "A bloody pond," he grumbled, pushing lightly with his feet to stay above water. He groaned loudly. His wings were all wet now and it was bloody freezing. He perked his head up to figure out the nearest way out of the water when he caught onto a green dress, fluttering around the legs of a young woman.
A woman that yapped at him about her pond.
I wouldn’t much care for it to be soiled by the fact that Ra’am El decided to end his days in it.
Remy considered for a second, as the yappy voice reached him in his misery, how it must feel to drown. Diving sometimes felt a bit like flying. Floating and being weightless. But up in the air you didn’t have the fear of not being able to breathe. He closed his eyes and slowly blew out the air in his lungs, allowing his body to become heavy, letting the water cover his face, starting his slow decent towards the bottom of the lake. It was silent under the water. Silent and tranquil, that was, until the green flowery dress made the water uneasy and he finally opened his eyes. Her joyful little shrieks reached even through the shallow water.
Remy pushed himself back up on his feet and raised himself up just in time to hear her cheery, bright voice greet him. Juniper. He had heard of Juniper hadn't he?
"You seem to already know who I am," he stated a little dryly, reaching out to shake her hand, that she had stretched towards him. "I go by Remiel these days, though."

Come along.
The motherly warmth this woman projected nearly made him groan like a teenager. Bossy yet caring and with a stern voice he was entirely unable to ignore. He shook his head before dragging himself through the pond; his wings falling behind him. As they reached the
He contemplated creating a light storm to dry off his wings and clothes but quickly decided against it, not wanting to disturb the beautiful garden with the delicate spring-flowers. Taking notice of the garden, he gently furrowed his eyebrows. So many of the flowers should not grow at this time of the year; and even more of them should not be present in this type of forest. He lifted his eyes to the woman as she strode across the grass with her dress leaving a wet trail where she paved the way for him. A forest fairy. The thought had the sides of his mouth tug lightly upwards. He adored creatures of nature and had always enjoyed the company of such fairies. They reminded him a little of the greek nymphs, the way they fluttered around gracefully as they walked. He shook his head to himself, dragging in a large breath of air in in defeat before starting to move his legs, following the cheerful woman through her garden to her 'humble' cottage as she had called it earlier.
Nothing even close to a humble cottage, but a cozy, beautifully intricate forest house that reminded him of Azrael's mountain cabin. As he dragged his feet through the long grass and finally reached the door, a peculiar sensation hit him along with a hoarse voice.

Juniper what is all that ruckus about?
Remy felt strange around the likes of ghosts. Usually ghosts had something very specific that kept them on Earth; away from their heavenly judgement. It felt unnatural to him, that a soul should be trapped in a limbo like that, and although he had met ghosts who were entirely content being just that, he had always felt it his duty to take them to Heaven, so that they could finally find their place in the afterlife. Whether it be Hell or Heaven. He had stopped as soon as the grumpy voice had reached them and he had felt the sensation of his being. What strange sensation indeed. Ghosts. He shuddered involuntarily, blaming the slight movement on his dripping wet trousers and what was left of his ripped linen shirt, dangling loosely around his barren chest. The grumpy ghost continued his complaints and Remy couldn't help a displeased hum in the back of his throat at the way he spoke to the fairy; which of course was still only an assumption. "Hell, isn't actually that bloody, Mr. Claude," he assured him a little dryly. "And it sure isn't nearly as peaceful as here."
He had stopped in the doorway, taking in the beautiful, warmth of the home, but still standing a little awkwardly, clearly not really fitting in. He raised a hand in a short wave at the ghost, greeting him silently before turning to Juniper. His assumptions of her being a fairy only strengthened as she used magic. Fairy magic felt very different to witch-magic, he noted, pushing his chin forwards as he caught onto the beautiful breeze she had called upon, surrounding them with the smell of spring. It made him smile a small, soft smile at her, finally pushing aside his misery and indulging in the curiosity that surrounded them.
"You have a beautiful home, June," he noted warmly, taking on the nickname she had presented him with. "Tea sounds lovely. Thank you." He still hadn't stepped through the door, not wanting to drench her floor, and instead took a light step backwards, back onto the veranda so he could raise his wings up and give them a good, heavy shake to get rid of the water and little algae that had wrapped around his beautifully, cream feathers.