by Nazri Noor
“So nobody sees,” he said. That was his mysterious non-explanation.
And yes, we made up. I summoned him with my own blood again, then brought him to a nice, hip café to buy him a good, proper cup of coffee. Three cups, actually, along with two slices of cake, and a strudel. Raziel said I deserved to pay through the nose for being a jerk. He was right, as he so frequently was.
Florian blinked at Raziel, raising his hands questioningly as he looked around the vast expanse of grass. “So nobody sees what, exactly?”
“What Mason is about to do. Now, again, please hand me the knife.”
I shook my head and passed it over. Raziel took the blade from me, handling it hilt-first, and smiled.
“You’re getting better at this. Florian told me about the suit of armor you made. Was that inspired by me?” Raziel batted his eyelashes. “Do I inspire you, Mason?”
My skin went crimson, and I fumed at him, stammering. “Don’t flatter yourself. Florian gave me the idea. He told me to suit up. I did what I had to do in that situation to protect myself.”
“And indeed you did. No suit of armor you could have borrowed through the Vestments would have given you quite that much strength, Mason. That was all you. The armor might have come from upstairs, but its enchantments? You created them.”
I looked down at my hands, staring at my palms. Creatio ex nihilo. This was a game changer. The pit of my stomach bubbled with tingling excitement.
“So the armor, was that the creatio stuff you were talking about, or the Vestments?”
“In time, I think there will be very few differences. The lines will begin to blur as your mastery of one enhances the other. Though ultimately, the objective is to never have to borrow anything at all. To create everything you could possibly need. Imagine.”
“Think of the possibilities,” I murmured.
“Indeed,” Raziel said. “Now turn around, Mason.”
I squinted at him, but obeyed anyway. “Why, exactly?”
“So I can slice your shirt off your body. It’s easier if I do it from the back.”
I sprang away from him, my hands instinctively clutching at my chest. “Now, you listen here. I don’t know what kind of perverted little game you’re playing, but if you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to do was ask. I love this shirt.” I thumbed its material, glaring at him reproachfully. “I paid five whole dollars for it.”
He scoffed. “And here I thought I could finally help you be rid of it. That thing is hideous.”
“And you’re an elitist snob.” I pulled my shirt over my head, tucking it into my waistband for later. Good thing the day was nice and warm. “So, what now? There’s a reason you dragged us all the way out here to the middle of nowhere.”
Florian gave Raziel one crooked eyebrow. “Yeah, man. This is super sketchy.” He fiddled with his trousers. “But if you want us naked – ”
“Keep your pants on,” Raziel hissed. He tossed the knife into the air, watching as it spun, then disappeared. “This is about Mason. You’ve seen now that your experience with the Vestments has deepened, that you have grown somewhat in power.” He smiled at me, pushing his fists proudly into his hips. “You’re going to love what’s about to happen.”
I grunted when Raziel grabbed me and turned me in place, and I tried to stay dutifully still when he traced his fingers across my shoulder blades, whispering in that strange tongue the celestials used. I knew I had glyphs back there as well, similar to the ones branded all over my chest and stomach. But something was different this time. Parts of my back and my shoulders felt changed, even warmer, as Raziel continued his incantation. Finally, he patted me on the neck, then stepped away.
“You couldn’t have handled this with your limited understanding of your power before,” he said quietly. “No offense meant.”
I shrugged. “None taken.”
“Only stating facts, Mason. You needed to be stronger to perform this particular feat, if that makes sense. Now your soul, I’d wager to say, is more than powerful enough. At least to let you experience this new joy for a time, even if it is only brief.”
I threw my hands up and turned around, clomping my feet. “I give up. What new joy are you talking about? You’ve been cryptic for hours, dude, even more than usual. Spill.”
That was when the sunlight touched my back, tracing its own invisible fingers over the sigils drawn there. I turned my head over my shoulder, right, then left, weirded out by the eerie, almost electric sensation of something being stuck to my back. No, of something – oh God – something sprouting right out of my skin.
I looked again, my breath catching in my throat as I saw them there, hooded like canopies of golden leaves to either side of my body. Wings. Enormous wings, like I was in the embrace of some great golden bird. It took me a second to understand the looks of excitement on Florian and Raziel’s faces.
Those wings were mine.
Imagine the feeling of getting up from your desk after hours and hours of bone-crunching, mind-numbing work. Imagine the pleasure and thrum of blood your body feels when you finally stretch those tired muscles, lengthening the bits of you that were strung too tight, the sensation of release and relax.
Now multiply that feeling by ten. No. By a hundred.
I was ecstatic. The grass rushed at my feet with every beat of my wings, scattering as I folded and unfurled them. I hadn’t known about them minutes ago, but using them felt so natural to me, so instinctive. I let them stretch as far as they would go, watching in amazement when I found that my entire span was even longer than my own height.
“Holy shit, you guys,” I breathed.
Florian was too stunned to speak, his mouth opened wider than I’d ever seen. Raziel, on the other hand, beamed at me with precious pride.
“This is what you are, Mason,” he said, a gentle quaver in his voice. “This is who you are.”
I walked in a circle, stupidly gawping at the sight of my own wings, bending them so I could see every gleaming feather, every filament like a slender wire of delicate gold. Then I looked up at Raziel with what I knew was a face filled with fragile hope.
“Can I use them to – you know.” I pointed up at the sky.
Raziel parted his hands. “Why do you think we came all the way out here?”
God, I could have hugged him right then. But I was too damn excited. I wasn’t going to know if I didn’t try, right? I glanced around us, observing the open field, and realizing it didn’t matter where I tried to take off. Any spot was going to offer me a decent running start.
I thought back to Belphegor, of all people, and how he’d unfurled his own leathery wings to blast off into the sky. He’d taken a running start back in the alley when we were both evading the Lorica. I didn’t know if my tenuous friendship with him would ever amount to anything in my favor, but that was a concern for a different day. A running start it was, then.
My breath hitched as I watched the distant horizon, focusing on the farthest point I could find. I didn’t even think about stretching, just picked a direction and took off, my sneakers stomping into the grass as I ran, my arms pumping a rhythmic swing. My wings dragged behind me, and I felt the wind catching in the filaments, the feathers of gold.
Now or never, I thought. I leapt, my feet propelling me off the ground. I jumped, and just – kept on jumping. The air carried me up. I beat my wings once, twice, and the wind took me higher.
Dear God. I was flying.
My heart soared just as my body did, my pulse racing as I sped through the sky. Nothing in my life had ever felt as good, as freeing. My debt to Belphegor was mostly paid, and Florian and I were closer friends than ever. Even better, the two of us finally had a real home, bunking with a goddess, no less, and her friendly guardian gorilla. I had friends, a home. I had family.
But more importantly, I found what I wanted all along. Freedom. Just the briefest, smallest taste of it. I felt its sweetness on my tongue, in the air that streamed into my lungs as I p
arted my lips and whooped in open delight. I laughed, and it felt like laughing for the first time in a long time. In its many voices, the wind laughed with me, running loving fingers through my hair.
Higher, the wind said. Higher, my heart sang. And far below, I was pretty sure it was exactly what my friends were telling me, too, between Raziel’s measured cheering and the alarming thunder of Florian’s hands as he clapped in encouragement.
So up, and up, and up I flew, the sun touching my face, the clouds parting in my wake. For a few moments, the question of my heritage ceased to matter. No. That was wrong. It mattered more to me than ever. I liked the human half of me. That was cool. But for the first time since I discovered who I was – nephilim, princeling, and heir – I felt good about being an angel. Me. An angel. Flying!
I wondered if my father could see me, wherever he was. I wondered if Mom could, too. I let the wind dry my tears as I rocketed through the clouds, as I spun and barreled towards the stratosphere, as the air whistled between the gaps of my fingers.
My laughter, like my heart, filled the open sky.
END
The story continues.
Follow Mason’s flight in False Gods.
Need to read more?
Be the first to discover when the next book comes out, and get a Darkling Mage story in the bargain. Set in the same universe as Sins of the Father, Crystal Brawl is an exclusive FREE gift for my newsletter subscribers.
Join Dustin Graves and his sentient sword Vanitas on an impromptu evening mission: sneaking out to grab a cheeseburger, only to run into a ritual sacrifice.
Get your FREE book now!
Also by Nazri Noor
Sins of the Father
Fallen Reign
False Gods
Morning Star
Ex Nihilo
Darkling Mage
Shadow Magic
Dark Harvest
Grave Intentions
Oblivion Heart
Midnight’s Son
Last Rites
Blood Pact
Soul Fire
Endless Knight
Penumbra
Crystal Brawl
About the Author
Hi, I’m Nazri, a Filipino-Malaysian author based in California. I’m trilingual, but I really only write in English. I can also speak just enough Sindarin and Valyrian to impress absolutely no one. My urban fantasy novels focus on heroes who use wits, style, and their wildly unpredictable magic to save the day. Think sass and class, while kicking ass.
My influences come from horror and fantasy: HP Lovecraft, Anne Rice, George R.R. Martin, Chuck Palahniuk, Terry Pratchett, and Neil Gaiman. Growing up I was shaped by the Blood Sword, Fighting Fantasy, Lone Wolf, and Grey Star game book universes. I’m also inspired by video games, specifically the Castlevania, Final Fantasy, and Persona series.
Long story short, I’m a huge nerd, and the thrill of imagining wizards and monsters and worlds into existence is what makes me feel most alive. Writing, to me, is magic. If you enjoyed my work, please do consider leaving a review on Amazon. Even just a sentence can do so much. Reviews help readers like you decide whether they’d like my books, and they help indie authors like me with better visibility and credibility.
And do join us in the Arcane Underground, my own reader group on Facebook. You can talk about the books with other readers or even ask me questions about my stories. I frequently share free and discounted books from myself and other authors, but most importantly, the group is always the first to learn about upcoming releases and see new covers as I reveal them. We also post memes. Lots and lots of memes.
I hope to see you there. Thank you for reading, and thank you for supporting independent authors everywhere.
