Airel

by Patterson, Aaron

  The old man, a shell, screamed wildly at Kreios, wielding a short black dagger. He lunged very quickly, driving it into the angel’s side. Kreios smacked him, sending him flying into the forest of corpses that lay scattered roundabout them. He bounced up, a good distance away, and started rushing back to the fight. Kreios turned back to the demon, moving quickly.

  The Seer was now holding the long obsidian staff in his hands, and he made it weave a pattern in the air. Kreios guessed that he was conjuring some hellish shield and decided to put a stop to it. “Where are your masses of troops, boy? They no longer stand between us; you cannot hide behind them now. You should surrender, and be sensible.”

  The old man behind Kreios was tripping over bodies, but approaching quickly.

  The demon hissed defensively at Kreios. The angel closed his eyes and concentrated on his target, focused on the Sword, light in his hand. Without drawing it back before the strike, he lunged, eyes closed, willing the tip of the blade through the belly of the beast and out his back.

  The demon groaned loudly but shoved him away, and the Sword pulled free. “I told you, big brother, you cannot kill me—certainly not with my own Sword!”

  Kreios heard the old man, the host, coming for him from behind, panting sub-humanly. He did not turn to face him; he merely backhanded him and sent him flying again. He knew if he killed the host, the demon would shelter in the bloodstone, beyond his reach.

  He turned back to the demon, his nemesis—and spoke. “Engage me. Show me what I taught you when we were young together—before the precipitation. Bring to me the hollows of your putrid and spurious heart, so that I may fill them up with the dregs of the cup that has been prepared for the traitorous!”

  The demon simply laughed. “Talk of traitors! Hail—the king of fools: Kreios. How dare you speak to me of traitorousness, you adulterous Cain! At least a third of us had enough honor to declare war outright. You shall not speak at me of betrayal— ΥΠΟΚΡΙΤΉΣ!” He swung the black staff maniacally.

  Kreios dodged the blow, reaching in with the sword and slicing at the neck of the beast, but not deep enough. He spun and parried a second, a third, then took to the air again. He looped around quickly, Sword overhead, and barreled into the demon headlong. As he did, he brought the edge of the Sword down upon the staff with a thunderous crack, shattering it powerfully and knocking the demon, senseless, onto its back.

  Kreios again took to the air, this time with a vengeance. Like a comet, blazing with speed, he shot up in an arc, peaking high up, directly above the immobilized body of the demon, the Seer, his brother Tengu.

  Sword drawn and at the ready, hands grasping the grips like a dagger, the point of its blade aimed squarely ahead, Kreios saw the target blur as he broke the sound barrier—yet his aim was true, and the target was not moving. He would bury the Blade of the Sword into mountains of rock if it meant that, in doing so, he would sever the head from the body of his nemesis. He was seeking the end relentlessly; he could taste it.

  The Seer, recovering, bared jagged and rotten teeth at him from below, and opened his arms as if issuing an invitation to Kreios to give him the worst he could imagine.

  Kreios suffered himself to smile. This was in fact the end of the Seer, an end to the dogged pursuit of his people by the horde army, a chance for peace at last.

  The Seer below was visibly delighted as Kreios streaked toward him, lifting his chin slightly as if begging for the inevitable, daring to lift his horns and bare his neck to the Sword.

  The moment stretched out.

  Kreios was within striking distance; the collision stood on the cusp of itself, and he moved closer still. The tip of the Sword touched the folds of skin on the Seer’s foul throat. Then he vanished, smoke exploded in great billows, and in the same instant Kreios smashed into the earth, scattering dead bodies, limbs, congealed blood, earth, rock, and smoke everywhere.

  Scrambling to his feet, Kreios searched for his enemy, glancing everywhere, finally seeing the old man, the host of the Seer. He thrust the dagger that he held at his own neck deeper, gurgled and fell to his knees.

  Red with rage, Kreios bellowed, “No!”

  Blood ran down the old man’s hand and dripped to the earth, mocking Kreios as the last few bits of smoke that once were the embodiment of the Seer disappeared. Kreios screamed and charged the old man, Sword drawn. He hacked off his head, arched his back and screamed into the sky. The Seer had escaped into the bloodstone.

  Kreios searched the body of the old host for it; it was not to be found.

  The angels returned to Kreios; Yamanu reported: victory. Though with heavy cost. They set fire to the fields and watched as the flames crept in upon the dead, consuming them. The smoke of it would rise and darken the sun for some distance around for many days.

  There were thousands upon thousands, and the bodies of his comrades were hopelessly entangled with them. It was a shame to burn all of it together. But these would return to peace, even if they must sleep until the end before they arose.

  Kreios lamented his failure. And though the small company of angels regarded the battle as a victory, he could not abandon the memory of so many brave angel warriors. They had stood by him to the death, and had tasted consequence… in a great many ways. He stiffened his resolve, that by refusing to dwell upon himself too heavily, he would honor the memory of those now lost.

  He knew that this was not an end, but a beginning. They flew to Ke’elei. To home. To the beloved who remained. To bittersweet days.

  Chapter IV

  Eagle Idaho, Present day

  When Stan had heard the name of Kreios uttered, it shook him to the core. Kreios? Here? The memories of Kreios were his inheritance as host of the Seer. He had cursed and gritted his teeth. He was both angered insensibly and pierced with fear. Kreios was supposed to have been killed millennia ago—or slinking in the shadows, hiding. Stan had assumed, as had the Seer, that he had succumbed to death somehow.

  He growled in pain. His shoulder sagged and his collarbone stuck out, making a little tent under his shirt.

  Airel was gone. No matter what he thought or how strong he believed he was, she was faster and much more powerful than he had ever imagined. She didn’t look strong or fast.

  He could hear the Seer cursing. Stan forgot about his broken collarbone and ran toward the house—he had no choice but to obey—for now.

  The front door hung open and he caught a glimpse of his winged beast master flashing across the living room in a tangle of light and smoke. Gripping his dark dagger, he peered around the corner and saw Kreios. His body was glowing with a brilliant white light, and Stan had to cover his eyes to keep from being blinded.

  The angel was armed with a long hooked dagger, and as he stabbed it into the demon’s gut, Stan felt the pain rip through his own midsection. He looked down to see that his shirt was soaked in blood. Could he die if the demon died? He didn’t think so, but he wasn’t talking any chances. He leaped into the fray and slashed with his dagger downward across the angel’s back.

  Kreios turned, almost casually. The look of calm on his face stopped Stan in his tracks. He beheld the brightest eyes he had ever seen; they were steeped in more history and wisdom than he could possibly imagine.

  The moment Kreios turned his back to the Seer, it seized its opportunity and lunged. Long rotten teeth sank deeply into his neck. The angel closed his eyes and bent at the knees, and for a second Stan thought he was going down.

  “Kill him, you blubbering pig!” The voice stung his mind and sent sharp needles into his skin. In the time it took Stan to grip and draw the dagger back to put some force behind the final blow, Kreios launched.

  The angel shot straight up through the second story and out the roof like a rocket. Plaster, wood, fiberglass insulation and dust ejected out and rained down through the gaping hole, and the whole house skewed off center.

  Stan was left earthbound, peering up at them as they twisted left, then right, trailing black smoke.
He could not make out much detail, but he sensed through the demon the panic that flooded over its mind.

  In the launch, the demon’s jaws loosened their grip, and Kreios used inertia and the resistance of the wind to keep the beast at bay. He tore loose from the demon’s arms, spinning him around so that he could grasp him from behind. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to clip your other wing, brother,” he said as they flew higher.

  Kreios grasped the Seer’s lone intact wing and wrenched it out entirely by the root. Stan fell to the floor, arching his back in unbearable pain, howling madly. The Seer was wild with unspeakable rage, spitting and howling furiously.

  Kreios punched the top of his head, released him from his grip, and let the struggling demon fall, flapping impotently.

  Stan could hear the wind rushing by, the flapping. As the body of the Seer impacted the earth, Stanley Alexander passed out, his body convulsing, then rigid. He could feel his mind straining to make sense of it all, but came up empty.

  Is this the end? There was no answer.

  Chapter V

  Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, Present day

  Kim had followed me through the dark tunnel in silence. It seemed we were both a little off; she was speechless for once. As for me, I had just fought a man who was not quite human and held my own.The huge house was utterly empty without anyone there. Kim gasped in surprise and wonder as I gave the tour: the great ballroom, the massive library, and my room. We didn’t even consider entering Michael’s room. It was too close to the wound, and the pain was still fresh.

  Kim spent some time in my bathroom so that she could at least clean up and feel human again. It’s good that we were, along with all the other things we shared, really close to the same size. She looked much better in one of my favorite outfits, and aside from the bruises and her stiffness, she was herself again. Nothing a little Advil and time couldn’t cure.

  One of the first things we discussed, once we had caught up, was when she could go home.

  “Same as me,” I said, “whenever it’s safe.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I was amazed at how much like Kreios I now sounded, and how much like me she sounded. Things were starting to make sense for me now that I understood some of the reasons why—but not for her so much. “We’ll talk with my… with Kreios when he gets… home.” Old words were hard to fit into new definitions. I was trying to roll with it, Kim style.

  She changed the subject rather effortlessly. It’s one of the reasons she was my best friend. “You know, since you and Michael went missing I’ve been looking for you like a madwoman. Your parents called the police, but that seemed to make things worse—the detective that was in charge of your case was murdered! Everything changed after that. They’ve got everyone looking for you now. I was expecting to see your face on the milk carton soon.” We didn’t laugh very hard at the joke; it only made me think of how we would have to launch a massive cover-up if we were to survive for long.

  Since Kreios wasn’t back yet and we were getting pretty hungry, I put together some dinner out of whatever was around. If there was ever a time when I wished for the modern conveniences (such as frozen pizza), it was then.

  The sun was sliding behind the mountains when I heard something far off. Kim obviously didn’t hear it, and I wondered if I should be alarmed or get ready to defend the castle or something. I wished Kreios had showed me more. It was the sound of rushing wind, but faster, quieter. Kreios appeared seconds later, landing on the back porch, graceful and feather-soft. Kim and I stared through the big windows, awestruck. We were in the company of an angel.

  “Whoa,” Kim muttered.

  “I know—too bad I can’t do that.” Kim looked at me, her face scrunched.

  Kreios opened the glass door and walked into the room. I ran to him, barely aware of what I was doing, and threw myself into his arms, asking if he was okay, if everything was alright. It sure seemed like there was nothing to worry about, the way he shone—but I couldn’t help being concerned. This angel in the room was my grandfather.

  As I drew away and looked at him, I could hear his voice in my mind. “Airel. Do you understand now?”

  I nodded, slightly, not wanting Kim to feel like a third wheel attached to a private conversation. For the first time, I saw my grandfather—Kreios—and I heard him in my mind once more. “This is just the beginning.”

  Chapter VI

  The next morning we were up early, except for Kim, who was sleeping off the bruises and soreness. I sat with Kreios before sunrise in the library, by the fireplace.

  He wasn’t one for small talk, and that seemed especially appropriate now, given that we were up against so many negative possibilities, including the Brotherhood.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay. I know all of this is a lot to take in.” Kreios looked over at me and I felt for the first time he was a real friend. Not just that; everything he did was for me, to help me. Knowing that he was also my grandfather made it just that much more real.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just trying to work it all out in my mind. I feel like I know you; as if a part of you has been inside me my entire life.” I could feel my heart tighten as I tried not to think about Michael. It was hard not to think about the man I was in love with.

  “Airel, I know that all of this is difficult for you. You have enough to deal with on top of your realization that you have supernatural abilities. You were kidnapped and taken from everything you know. Your friend was abducted and nearly killed, your life has been upended, and…” I was glad he didn’t mention the primary crisis in my heart. He continued, “Well, any one of those things would be hard for an adult, much more so a young lady like you.” He folded his hands around a hot cup of tea and sighed.

  My eyes burned. I tried to hold back the dam that was ready to break. I missed my parents, my school, and my life. I never asked for any of this. The one person I needed most after all of this was my mom. I needed to cry in her arms and to feel her love, to tell her how broken I was, and what sucked about it was how, no matter how bad I wanted to feel her near, I couldn’t. “I’m so scared! I feel so alone right now.”

  Kreios touched my hand with gentle fingers. “Love is a different kind of thing, Airel. We can give our hearts away and lose ourselves in someone we love. I know what it’s like to love and to lose that person.”

  “Yeah, but she died; she didn’t betray you, she didn’t lie to you, or lead you on about caring for you and then leave you!” Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. I wiped at them with the back of my hand.

  “Yes, that’s true. I did love and still love my wife. I left everything I knew for her. I left the God who made me; I was the one who betrayed his love for me. For love, we do things we would not otherwise do. But one thing we have to understand is that true love is freedom.”

  I looked at him and sucked in a deep breath. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you have to find out who you are. Who are you, Airel? Do not be defined by the man you love; do not lose who you are in the love of another. We can only love the way we were created to if we are first whole in ourselves. If you drown in your feelings for someone, it will turn to obsession and it will cloud your mind to reality.” He took a slow sip of his tea.

  “I don’t know who I am. I’m confused, alone, hurt… and I feel like the one person I trusted most just cut out my heart. I know deep down that Michael loved me. I saw it in him. But he threw it all away, and for what? How can he just toss me aside like that?” My heart hurt so much I felt like it would burst. Hot tears flowed and I let them fall. I had to deal with my pain; I couldn’t hide it inside anymore.

  “I don’t know why he did what he did. Maybe he did love you. Maybe there is more to the story than we will ever know. But even if he did love you and you were going to be together you have to step back and look at how you loved him. Do you see that it was unhealthy? Do you see how he was overtaking who you are as a person? You are b
ound for failure if you allow yourself to drown in each other.”

  His eyes were very soft. “I love you Airel. I have been looking after you ever since you were born. I want what is best for you and this pain—this need you have for him—is not love.”

  I became angry with how he was turning my pure love into something it could never be. “I love him! Don’t you get it? It was him, not how he looked or what he said, but him. He is an amazing person! And it’s my choice to love him. Don’t you think I want to forget, to hate him for what he did to me? I want more than anything to erase him from my memories.” I was sobbing now, and I buried my head in my hands and wept.

  I looked back on every conversation, every look, every word spoken. The truth of what Kreios was saying came shining through, inevitably. I decided to love him,—yes—but then I had begun to lose myself. I didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit he was right. How could this happen? I wanted to drown, to drink in Michael and die consumed by him. But was that real? Was it something I could count on?

  Kreios let me cry. He didn’t reach out to comfort me, but sat back with accepting eyes and let me get it all out. It flowed like water through the imagined man I had created, dissolving him into nothing.

  “Tears never lie, Airel. What you’re feeling is part of who you are. You are a strong, beautiful, intelligent, loving woman. In you there is more than you can imagine. You don’t need a man to love you to make you special. You are special because you are you. Don’t you see? See and believe you are one of God’s children; that is what makes you special.”

  My shoulders shook as I poured out all my hurt, all my love and all my hidden hate for Michael, for myself. A part of me didn’t want to feel; I wanted to shut it off, to run and hide from this overpowering pain. But what would that do? Would it stay buried? Like oil it would always come to the surface.