“Yes, here,” the nervousness was back in his voice and Alan hated how he sounded. At this point, he just wanted to get the blanket and gift out of his hands. “Here, take it. It’s for you.”
Seraphim walked over with intrigue and wonder written on her face. Despite his awkward way of presenting his gift, Seraphim took it in both hands.
“You smell horrible. What is that? Is that smoke?”
Alan pulled his lips back from his teeth with a grimace. “Yeah, and sweat. Sorry about that.”
Seraphim looked down at the blanket and began to unravel the cloth as if she never received a present before. The care she took, the slow way she unfolded Gideon’s old bed cover told Alan he wasn’t the only one savoring the moment.
After what seemed far too long for anyone to unwrap anything, Seraphim pulled back the last cover. Her eyes went from confusion to understanding in a matter of seconds.
She let the blanket drop to the stone floor as she raised the piece of metal to eye level and examined the workmanship. The steel wing was designed to fit onto her own broken extremity like a prosthetic limb would fit on a amputated appendage. The section of the metal wing that would attach to her own would overlap her black feathers with a series of brown straps to hold it in place.
Creating the overall form was the easy part. Layering and detailing the outlines of feathers in the metal proved the most difficult. His strength did him no good when trying to mimic the dense foliage of black feathers that made up Seraphim’s natural wings.
Even now as Seraphim let her hands play across the series of chiseled feathers, Alan was examining the piece to see how he could improve on it in the future. He was happy with his work and he knew he could only get better. The question was whether Seraphim felt the same way.
Seconds turned into minutes in the vacant Temple grounds. Alan wasn’t sure what to say or if he should say anything. Seraphim stood just a few feet in front of him still turning and twisting the wing every which way. Her hands hadn’t stopped examining the piece since the blanket hit the floor.
With more time to second-guess himself, Alan feared the worst. What if he was right? What if that little voice in his head was actually reality knocking on the door instead of doubt? What if she was taking offense? What if…?
Alan couldn’t keep himself from talking. He felt like a kettle full of water with the pressure only building inside. “If you don’t like it, I can make you another one. Or if you don’t want to wear it, it’s okay.”
Alan stopped talking as Seraphim began to shake her head. Her movement was slow at first but begin to pick up speed until it was a steady metronome of movement. “No,” her voice was soft, softer than he ever heard it before. Tears weren’t choking her throat yet, but the halting speech that usually preceded tears could be heard in her voice. “It’s perfect. You, you made this for me?”
Seraphim finally moved her eyes from the piece in her hand and fixed Alan with a look that he had never seen before. Her eyes were full of gratitude and thankfulness. A chill went down his spine. He wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so hard for him to talk. Instead he just swallowed and nodded.
Seraphim let her eyes stay on him for a moment longer, as if she just met him and was forming a first opinion. “How does it work?”
Alan felt a new rush of panic fill his chest. This was the moment that would determine if his hours of labor were spent in vain.
Chapter 15
Seraphim couldn’t remember the last time someone gave her a present or even gone out of their way to express gratitude. As a member of the supernatural race, she was called to serve a selfless life of duty and responsibility.
Of course the Angels were supportive of one another. Humans on the other hand would never know the sacrifices they made. Her service was appreciated, but in the same way expected. When she saved Alan, the Horseman of War, from Gabriel’s attack, instinct took over. In that flash of a second all she knew was that she couldn’t let Alan die.
Injury while completing her tasks was always a very real possibility as a Death Angel. She knew sooner or later her time would come. The marred wing and scar on her face were hard to accept. They would always be hard to cope with. However, she was too strong to be broken. This was a setback, but one she would overcome.
She was in the Temple courtyard flexing her wing and hoping beyond hope that there was still some way to fly when Alan found her. Multiple failed attempts shattered her dreams to soar through the sky once again. The burned wing as well as the scar on her face were part of her now.
When she heard someone walking up the steps, Seraphim had quickly folded her wings inside her back. She knew it was only the thoughts of a once perfectly made immortal being that made her hide her deformity but she couldn’t help it. Perhaps if others couldn’t see her deformities, then maybe she could pretend they weren’t there at all. She made sure a thick strand of red hair was in place over the right side of her face to cover her burn.
When she saw it was Alan, she surprised herself when she felt pleased at seeing him. When he gave her his gift, feelings she didn’t know she held inside overwhelmed and shocked her like a unknown warmth spreading through her body.
Now she stood still as Alan took the man-made wing back from her. He asked her to spread her wings so he could mount the prosthetic limb.
Gratitude—or any other way she knew of to express her thanks—didn’t seem enough. Anything she could say or do would fall far short of what Alan had already done for her. Whether the wing worked or not, Seraphim knew she would be eternally grateful to the Horseman and his kindness.
Was it just gratefulness she was feeling or was it something else she was careful to guard herself against?
“Seraphim, you have to extend your wings for this to work.”
Seraphim was torn from her thoughts and brought back to reality at Alan’s request. Showing any kind of weakness around others was something she was always careful to avoid. Willingly exposing her deformed wings to Alan was harder than she anticipated.
Even though he witnessed her shed a few tears she had recovered. Now, she was forced to be vulnerable in front of someone else. Gathering what remained of her strength, she extended her black wings out on either side of her back. Her left wing had made a full recovery from the injuries. Familiar black feathers rustled as she stretched and flapped them. Her right wing, on the other hand, was only shadow of its former self.
The wing started at the portion of her back where her shoulder blades met. It traveled up in an arch where it met in a joint and should connect to the rest of her wing, but from that point there was none left. Instead of extending out, it ended in a premature nub of red skin and singed feathers. Due to Danielle’s help and her own level of supernatural healing, her feathers were restored farther up but her wing would never be the same again.
“Okay,” she heard Alan say behind her. “This might feel weird but we can make any adjustments as well as reshape the wing if you want. Gideon would be more than happy to take a look if you’re comfortable with that.”
Seraphim understood his hesitancy at anyone else coming to look at her wing. Was she that transparent?
She remained quiet and still as Alan slipped on the wing and began connecting the leather harness across her shoulders and chest.
To keep the wing in place there were a series of straps and slips that would have to anchor themselves on her own body to make sure the wing wasn’t lost in flight.
She could tell Alan was as nervous as she felt. He mounted the wing and reached around her doing his best not to make contact with her body. His smell of sweat did more to remind her how hard he must have worked on her gift rather than push her away with the odor.
For a brief moment his hand made contact with the back of her neck. Goosebumps prickled a thousand different places across her body. The idea that Alan could be something more than a Horseman to her planted itself deep within her thoughts.
A few moments of silence and the wing a
nd harness were in place. “There,” Alan said. “How does it feel?”
Seraphim quieted the silly voice inside of her wishing Alan hadn’t set the straps so fast. Instead, she turned around and gently flexed her wings. To say the feeling was natural would be a lie. For its size, the length of steel was light. To call the piece light in general would be a stretch of the truth. It would take some getting used to but if it worked, Seraphim would practice day and night until she could fly just as well or better than before.
“Can you retract your wings with the metal piece?” Alan asked.
“Let’s see.”
The movement was foreign. Seraphim brought both her wings into her back and, to her surprise, the metal piece traveled along with the rest of the wing. The feeling was one she had never experienced before. The closest thing she could relate it to was when she buttoned a shirt and was one row off, leaving an extra button on the bottom and an extra hole in the fabric on top. It wasn’t painful, just off somehow.
“Is it weird?”
Seraphim extended her wings again. “Well, it’s not a pleasant experience. It just feels alien somehow. I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Shall we test it out?”
Alan nodded allowing his own bright blue wings of energy to spread from his back. “You go first and I’ll follow. If anything happens, I’ll catch you.”
She bit back a reply of not needing anyone to catch her. She knew he was only trying to help. “Okay, here we go.”
Seraphim extended her wings again and lifted off the ground with a strong push. She could feel the network of leather straps pull against her wing and body, but they held. She wobbled and wavered but she didn’t fall. It was working.
Seraphim lost all composure and laughed like a child. She continued to rise in the air like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. She would have to relearn how to distribute her balance and, if she was honest, the steel wing would probably have to be molded to fit her wing better, but she was flying.
Feelings of joy and wonder overwhelmed her as she rose into the dark night. Only hours ago she had resigned herself to the fact she would never fly again. Now, Alan gave her something back for which she could never repay him. He gave her something even greater than comfort he gave her, freedom and purpose.
“Looks good. How does it feel?”
Seraphim was in the process of hovering shakily above ground. Alan pulled up alongside her, matching the slow, unsteady cadence of her wings with his own. Seraphim laughed out loud before she responded. “It feels amazing, Alan. I—I don’t know how to thank you.”
Alan gave her a smile she was beginning to admire and tilted his head to the side. “You’ve already done enough for me. Come on, let’s see how it works during a test flight.”
Seraphim followed Alan into the night as he took off over the Temple grounds. Overshadowing even the joy of flight, Seraphim felt a sense of something more than friendship as she followed the Horseman into the night.
---
Ardat was the first to arrive followed by Gideon, Esther, Danielle, Kyle, Angelica and Artemis in turn. Seraphim and Alan were the only two missing.
Michael drummed his fingers on the stone table. The table itself took up only a fraction of the large meeting hall Artemis provided for them. The room, like most of the Temple, was massive with stone floors and hanging chandeliers filled with bright candles.
Michael shifted his weight in the seat. Its sturdy build gave no leeway or comfort. After the hours Michael had spent sitting going over every aspect of his plan with Esther, a dull cramp was growing where his body weighed on the chair. His uncomfortable seating arrangement mirrored his own uneasy emotions. He was unsure of his plan when he began creating the idea. Even now, there were so many things that could go wrong.
There was no doubt in his mind that this was the best course of action, still it was daring. At the very least, would prove dangerous.
Once Seraphim and Alan joined the group Michael could begin. Esther had sent runners for all of them. They should have found and summoned the missing pair by now.
Ardat sat at the table content to remain quiet, swapping looks with Michael every few minutes. Gideon was talking to Danielle and Angelica in what he deemed a whisper but in reality was actually normal volume. Michael picked up bits and pieces of something about a wing. Usually, this would pique his interest, but not at this time. There was too much about to happen.
Esther was speaking to Kyle in a whisper low enough that even Michael couldn’t hear. Artemis was yawning. She looked as if she didn’t get a nap sometime soon, she was going to collapse in her seat.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a muffled yawn. “They’re on their way now. Seraphim was just trying on her new wing.” As if an afterthought struck her, she added. “It worked, by the way.”
Michael was caught off guard by the comment. Before he could begin to think of the question she was answering, the room’s wide, double doors opened. Alan and, to everyone’s surprise, a smiling Seraphim walked through the doors accompanied by the trio of large dogs.
“Sorry,” Alan said as he motioned to his three canine-like companions. “As soon as I came back into the Temple, they were waiting for me. I think they sensed something is about to happen.”
Michael waved off his apology and motioned for the two to sit. “Please, it’s all right. If you’d like to take a seat, we can get started.”
Alan and Seraphim moved to the two empty seats at the table between Esther and Danielle. The dogs looked at one another and then at the table as if they were saying, “Hey, we need a seat, too.”
When they realized they would not be given chairs at the table, they settled for a spot on the floor behind Alan’s chair.
“Thank you all for coming,” Michael said as he decided this would be the right moment to stand. His weary body stiffened at the motion. Michael pressed on. “As you all know by now, Gabriel is loose on the world and is making moves to bring about the Apocalypse. He’s grown in power in a way we are still trying to understand. If what we think is true, he may even be the possessor of an ancient spell that could alter the very fabric of our reality.”
Michael took a moment to look each of them in the eyes. He needed to make sure they all understood the dire situation they were in before he continued. Solemn expressions looked back at him from every face besides Artemis and Seraphim. Artemis looked like she was on the verge of giving in to the soothing hands of sleep. Seraphim wore an expression of joy Michael had never seen on her in the many centuries he knew the Death Angel.
The look on her face teased a secret only she knew. Michael was happy for her of course, but witnessing the stone-hearted female warrior in her current state was also a bit disconcerting. Michael shrugged off the feeling and moved on.
“In this struggle we all face, the side with the most knowledge will win. Unfortunately, we’re lacking quite a bit in that department as of now. What I’m proposing is to divide our forces and search for the truth. We’ll need to split into three teams. One to uncover how Gabriel became so powerful, one to determine if he was in fact able to create a enchantment strong enough to change the rules of our existence and finally one to confront Gabriel himself. We’ll all be needed for this and I’ve put together teams who I think would be best for each mission.”
All eyes turned to Artemis as she raised her hand for permission to speak. “Yes, Artemis?” Michael said. “Do you have a question?”
The girl rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, sorry. I just wanted to say that I need to stay here for now. I’m not supposed to leave the Temple yet. But I can still speak to Alan in his head.”
Michael gave the Prophet an approving nod. “I thought as much. Don’t worry; even without having you physically with us any knowledge you can provide will be invaluable.”
Artemis looked over at Alan and gave him a thumbs up. The Horseman of War grinned as he returned his small friend’s hand gesture.
“The team that will be searching
for how Gabriel managed to harness so much power will be; Ardat, Alan and Danielle. Esther, her Angels, Gideon and Angelica will search for the spell we think Gabriel may have created. Myself, Seraphim, her Death Angels and Kyle will be going after Gabriel.”
Before questions could be spoken Michael looked over to Seraphim. “I would ask how your wing is healing but judging by the smile you keep trying to hide, I’d say everything is taken care of?”
Seraphim wiped away the hint of a grin tugging at her lips. In a second, the unmoving warrior they all knew and expected was back. “I’m fine. I’ll be ready to go when we need to.”
“Good,” Michael said. He turned back to the rest of the table. “Are there any other questions?”
To be honest Michael was surprised they even let him finish asking the question before the room broke out in a cacophony of their own questions and requests.
“Michael,” Ardat said. “We both know I should be going with you to face Gabriel. I’m one of the most powerful warriors here. You’ll need my help.”
“It’s already been decided,” Esther said.
“Are you sure my skill set isn’t better suited here?” Gideon asked.
Michael stood quiet as the requests and concerns continued to pile. As much as he would like to lead in a democratic way, he knew certain times called for a firmer hold on leadership.
Yelling wasn’t his style. Instead, he stood firm and looked all of them over again. Hands rose like a wave. He allowed each of them to vent their concerns before they finally began quieting on their own.
The last comment before silence filled the air was from Artemis’ tired voice. “You guys are worse than dealing with children.”
Michael allowed the silence to seep into the room, hoping the lack of noise would lend gravity to his next words. He raised his arms to take in everyone at the table. “My choices are final. Trust me when I say I have considered all the pros and cons. This is the way it has to be. If someone feels so strongly that they do not wish to participate, then you are free to leave now.”
Alan Price and the Temple of Artemis Page 17
