by Eva Brandt
“Make me,” Abel said. “Show me the magic you used to take my brother from me.”
In response, I extended my senses and allowed my painful power to take over. “If that’s what you want, far be it from me to say no.”
I felt like I was underwater, but this time the monsters weren’t waiting for me in the depths of the ocean, but inside me. It was okay, though. If I had to embrace that terrifying power to save my lovers, I would.
When I’d been in Forgiveness class, I’d been so scared, but today, I just let go. It was agonizing, but also freeing. Most importantly, Abel’s hold on my Watchers melted away. Their bodies returned to their previous form, no longer twisted and broken. Azazel’s chest healed. Yeqon’s eyes grew back, as did Sariel’s arm.
But this was a magic I wasn’t sure how to control, and it spread all over the cave, almost like a disease. Without really intending it, I obeyed Abel.
With a sharp gasp, Cain stirred and shot to his feet. He extended his hand toward his brother and opened his mouth. Whatever he was planning to say never came out.
That was when it happened. Our eyes met and at the back of my mind, there was a sharp click.
“Show them, Delilah. Show them what you are, what you can be. Make them see how wrong it is to hurt the people you care about.”
It sounded like a great idea to me. Bright feathered wings burst out of my back, emanating an energy that reminded me of my lovers. Everyone recoiled, trying to pull away from me.
“Take cover!” Azrael shouted.
It was the last thing I heard before my own light speared me straight through, swallowing me whole. Lost and overwhelmed, I surrendered to the power and prayed to every deity who could hear that at least, this wouldn’t be for nothing.
If I died like this, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d managed to help my lovers. Hopefully, Cain and Fara would be taken captive. It wasn’t what I’d wanted to accomplish, but it was something.
“You’re not going anywhere, Delilah,” a familiar voice suddenly said.
A strong hand reached out to me. I didn’t know if I should reach back. I was so tired. I just wanted to rest. But the presence refused to let me go.
Two others joined my first savior and I couldn’t fight them off. My head cleared, my power tamed by the familiarity of my bond with my Watchers.
When I could see again, I realized I was in Sariel’s arms. He was cradling me against his chest, smiling softly. Azazel was holding my hand and Yeqon had buried his fingers in the feathers of my left wing.
Their touch felt intimate and comforting, but there was also tension in their stance. The lines around their eyes told me how much trouble they were having with containing my power.
I remembered the incident in Healing class, when Sariel and Azazel had futilely tried to help Yeqon and had failed. The anger and hatred they felt now was undoubtedly similar. I hated the idea of them carrying such a burden because of me.
“It’s okay now. I’m fine.”
“You’re really not,” Sariel said with a sigh. “But you will be. We won’t allow you to get hurt, not ever again.”
Supporting myself against his shoulders, I tried to stand up. I lost my balance, weighed down by my wings. Unlike before, they felt heavy and alien against my back. But my lovers were there, and they kept me upright.
I’d have been happier about it had I not realized what my outburst of power had done. The archangels were fine, already regrouping and sheathing their swords. But Cain, Abel, and Fara were missing.
“They got away. Because of me.”
“No, Delilah, it’s not your fault,” Azazel said. “We’ll catch them. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go home, okay?”
I wanted to point out that, after what Ariel had done, my soul was damned. I decided against it at the last moment.
Maybe Ariel had failed or I was just immune to regular ‘damning’, because the wings I now had were definitely divine in nature. I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t about to question it.
“Let’s go home,” I repeated.
In my heart, I wondered if my words were just another part of the web of deception I’d built around myself. The Celestial Realm was not my home. I doubted it would ever be.
Closure
Cain’s lair was somewhere in Asia, hidden deep underneath the dunes of the Gobi Desert. I only realized this after we came out and my bare feet sank into the sand.
In my mind, the desert had always been associated with scorching heat, scarabs, and occasionally, mummies. I blamed Hollywood, although my lack of interest for geography hadn’t helped. Either way, the end result was that the low temperature of this particular desert took me by surprise, so much so that I recoiled and staggered back.
In the big picture, it was a trivial detail and not one that should have crippled me, but it made a difference. My wings unbalanced me again, just like they had in the cave. I fell and would have undoubtedly hit the ground had Yeqon not been there to catch me.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” Yeqon said. “Be careful.”
I felt guilty for making him worry about me when he’d just been brutally attacked by Abel, but I couldn’t help myself. “It’s so cold,” I told him, clinging to his neck.
“Don’t worry,” Azazel offered. “It’s temporary.”
As it turned out, the desert wasn’t the real problem or the reason why I felt so cold. Even after we turned into currents of energy, the low temperature followed me.
I snapped my eyes shut, trying to focus on my lovers and tell myself everything was going to be fine. But I was more and more uncomfortable with my wings. It was a miracle that I’d even walked out of the cave on my own two feet. Now, the mere idea of standing up exhausted me.
Returning to The Celestial Realm didn’t make things any better. I felt lightheaded, confused, and I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.
“Delilah, can you hear me?” Yeqon asked.
I could, but when I tried to say that, the words refused to come out.
“All right,” Sariel told me. “It’s time for you to see a healer.”
I expected them to take me to Raphael, but apparently, they had no intention of doing so. The next thing I knew, I was in the Grim Reaper’s scythe-like quarters. Considering the panic attack I’d had during my first lesson with him, it should have been a poor decision, but weirdly enough, I felt safe inside.
Professor Grim and Morrigan were both waiting there when we arrived. They took one look at me and let out twin sighs of frustration. “I’d hoped the archangels would have more sense than this, but even now, after all this time, it seems I’m a little too optimistic,” the avatar of death said.
“If you weren’t optimistic, Grim, the whole world would have exploded by now,” Morrigan offered. “Come, children. Bring her here.”
We went up a set of shadowy stairs and entered a dark bedroom decorated with bird-like motifs. There was a cape made out of raven feathers on one of the chairs, along with one of the Grim Reaper’s cloaks. The bed was covered with black, glowing sheets and there were books scattered on the shelves and tables.
The room was a lived-in, cozy space that Morrigan and the Grim Reaper obviously shared. It was strange to think two avatars of death needed a place to rest, but celestial beings weren’t supposed to have beds either, and my Watchers did. I wondered if that meant Morrigan and Professor Grim had an intimate relationship too. That was a little crazy.
Morrigan patted the bed with her hand and Yeqon set me down. He was very careful with my wings and positioned me on my belly. I could understand his reasoning, because a healer would have to look at my back to treat it. But as soon as I was facedown, a memory of Ariel’s attack flashed through my head. I panicked, the haze in my mind chased away by utter dread.
“No!” I said, instinctively wrapping my wings around myself. “Leave me alone.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Morrigan said. “I know I told you to be careful with who you trus
t, but we don’t have time to give you a choice. Hold her.”
The latter words weren’t directed at me, but at my lovers. To give them credit, they did their best to not traumatize me further. Instead of forcing me down again, Sariel joined me in the bed and pulled me into his lap. Yeqon and Azazel slowly unfolded my wings, and their gentleness and familiarity did what Morrigan’s promises could not.
I leaned against Sariel’s chest, still shaken and afraid. Intellectually, I knew Morrigan wouldn’t hurt me, that if she’d wanted to do that, she’d have had ample time to destroy me earlier. She’d been involved in bringing me back and ensuring I could attend Watcher Academy, so she was invested in me. But fear wasn’t rational and I couldn’t control mine.
“Fear isn’t the real enemy,” Morrigan said, just like she had the day I’d first been attacked. “You can be afraid if you want. But rest assured that you’ll understand soon.”
Her hands gripped my feathers and I couldn’t help but flinch. “This isn’t the way you were supposed to receive your wings. Your body isn’t prepared for it, so you’ll have some trouble. But I trust that you’ll be able to handle it.”
The Grim Reaper pressed his skeletal hand to my shoulder. “What we’re doing now may be a little uncomfortable to you, but it’s necessary, at least for now. Your wings could harm you if we don’t step in.”
“O-Okay,” I stammered. I wasn’t sure I understood, because I’d thought this was what I needed to do—to earn my wings, to become divine. But apparently, it was a little more complicated than that, and even my wings had come out wrong.
Because of the way I was sitting, I couldn’t see Morrigan and the Grim Reaper move, but I could feel them. I sensed the moment the avatar of death produced his scythe. Cold sweat broke out through my body. Sariel’s hold on me tightened. Azazel and Yeqon released my wings, as if they’d changed their mind about what was going to happen. The Grim Reaper hesitated. “We wouldn’t do this if we had any other choice,” he said.
“There’s always a choice,” Sariel replied. “I know you have experience with medically trimming wings, but I don’t think it might be the best idea in Delilah’s case.”
Yeah, it definitely wasn’t. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t move a muscle, as if I was paralyzed in Sariel’s arms.
“We won’t chop them off all over again, Sariel,” Morrigan said. “We’re not crazy. We know what we’re doing here.”
“A Death Scythe isn’t just a tool for taking and cutting,” the Grim Reaper explained. “It also encourages natural growth, in its own way. You’ll see.”
He sounded so confident, but that wasn’t what made me calm down. It was the way my wings twitched that sealed the deal. It was almost as if they had a life of their own. I had no desire to live with appendages I couldn’t control and they really were so heavy.
“If you can help me, please do. But I don’t want them harmed again.”
“I know you don’t, Delilah,” Morrigan replied. “It’s what we intend to avoid as well.”
They kept their word. Morrigan touched each of my feathers, one by one, sweeping her fingers over the smooth surface. I could feel her magic tingling into me, healing my broken body and cleansing my still wounded soul.
But they didn’t stop there. When Morrigan was done with her part, the Grim Reaper would gently nudge each feather with his scythe. Occasionally, he’d slice a little off, and like he had said, it was uncomfortable. There was no pattern to the way he made the cuts, but he did it often enough that it had an effect. My head became much clearer and the wings stopped dragging me down so much.
When he was done, the Grim Reaper pulled away and set aside his scythe. My lovers freed me from their hold and I turned to face my two mentors/contractors. “What exactly did you do to me?”
“The magic circuit of the wings is less pronounced now,” the Grim Reaper replied. “Your power will still come to you if you need it, but your growth in other fields won’t be limited by these appendages.”
“But what else am I supposed to learn that isn’t related to me having wings?” I asked.
“Nothing happens overnight, Delilah,” Morrigan reminded me. “If we hadn’t intervened, the divine power of your wings might have suffocated you. Growth is always a complex process, especially for a human turning into a celestial being. You need to take your time, because otherwise, all your progress will be thrown out the window. Your wings appeared because you needed the boost of power in the confrontation with Cain, but you’re just not prepared to use them on a regular basis.”
I understood her logic. Me having wings was like giving a toddler who’d just learned to walk a pair of car keys. I was liable to get myself killed if my power wasn’t monitored.
But there was still one thing that puzzled me in this whole debacle. “So I assume that means I’ll still be allowed to stay here and continue my studies? I thought losing my wings was supposed to damn my soul.”
Morrigan and the Grim Reaper shared a look. Then, he turned toward me again. The fiery orbs of his eyes burned under his hood and I wished I could see his face properly. “That does happen, normally,” he said, “but your circumstances are unique. Because of your contractual bond with me, you’re immune to certain rules divine creatures are forced to obey.”
That was convenient, but I couldn’t be bothered to question it. What mattered was that I wouldn’t be turning into the devil’s slave anytime soon and I’d be able to stay with my lovers. Go me.
“That being said,” Morrigan added, “you still have to be careful. Certain types of magic tend to put a strain on contracts and on souls. And if your soul changes nature too much, our contract will break naturally, in which case you’ll be left with no defenses.”
Why was I not surprised there was a catch? Just when I thought I’d gotten a break, they dumped something else on my shoulders.
“And how likely is that to happen?”
“The future isn’t written, Delilah,” the Grim Reaper said, “but we picked you for a reason. We have complete faith in your strength and in your heart.”
I didn’t and I hated that they couldn’t be straightforward with their replies instead of offering vague reassurances. I wasn’t that special, and all the exceptions seemed unwarranted. But what the hell did I know? I could hardly complain about it when their gift had given me and my parents a second chance.
I stood up and was gratified to note I did feel a little better about my wings. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Morrigan laughed. “No, you don’t, but that’s all right. We never expected you to.”
Something in those words bugged me, but Sariel didn’t give me the chance to ask Morrigan what she meant. He got up too and started to pull me toward the stairs. “We’ll take our leave now,” he said. “We’ll see you in class, Professor Grim. Thanks again.”
Azazel and Yeqon followed us in silence. Their behavior was kind of rude, but I didn’t call them out on it—not until we left the scythe-like building. “What was that all about?” I asked once we’d exited.
“Deities will always have their secrets and their interests, Delilah,” Azazel answered. “They’re trying to help you now, but it’s a god’s job to think about the big picture. And I’m personally not very thrilled with the concept of you having a contract with the Grim Reaper. I never was.”
“It’s not our choice to make and we understand that,” Yeqon finished. “We can’t stop it. But we can help you learn to control your power, so that you won’t have to go through this sort of thing ever again.”
I met their eyes and as we stood there, in front of a building shaped like a scythe, I felt more afraid than ever. I was afraid that I’d never become what they thought I was, what they needed. I was afraid of what they made me feel—and what they didn’t.
Was I ever going to fall in love with them? I had no way to find out.
My wings felt heavy again, and my heart was even heavier. Without providing them
with a reply, I turned away from them and launched myself into the air.
It was the first time I’d flown on my own while at Watcher Academy. It was the first time I took in the energy of The Celestial Realm without being guided by anyone else. It felt lonely, empty, and purposeless.
I couldn’t fly for too long. It only took a couple of minutes for my wings to start aching, the unused muscles unable to hold me aloft. When I landed, I found myself on the edges of my lovers’ strange lake.
I was unsurprised when they appeared mere seconds later. After the day I’d had, it had been stupid of me to just fly off and I knew it. But I didn’t have the courage to speak to them again, not yet.
I knelt on the ground and thought about the burning city of Sodom, the dead water I’d sunk in, the ocean that had crushed me, the archangel who had attacked me, and the eternal sinner who’d dragged me into his convoluted resurrection ritual. “We picked you for a reason,” the Grim Reaper had said. Yes, I knew that very well, but I was even more afraid of that reason than I was of my lovers. And as long as the two deities of death didn’t reveal their reasoning, this wasn’t a fear I’d be able to fight off.
* * *
It took a while for me to recover from my ordeal. My meeting with Morrigan and the Grim Reaper, while necessary, hadn’t helped my state of mind and for days, I started falling asleep and having nightmares all over again.
My lovers faithfully stuck with me throughout it all, although they were also careful to not put too much pressure on me. That was why I was a little surprised when, one day, Azazel mentioned Ariel would finally be taken away.
“If you want to see her one last time, you can come with us to the Grand Chamber. But only if you feel comfortable.”
I was definitely not comfortable with the thought of seeing Ariel again, but it would be worse to not take advantage of this chance. I needed the closure, and Azazel must have known that, because otherwise, he’d have never mentioned it in the first place.
