“Oh snap out of it,” she says. “He set the rules. He had the advantage.”
“That he did,” I say.
“But how did he fly so fast like that?” she asks. “It was not even natural. I felt like I was watching lightning strike the bag.”
“I believe that’s his gifting,” I say.
“His what?” Uriel asks.
“It’s hard to explain, but the Prince told me about this and I encountered something like it before, only it was a little different and more violent.”
She lifts her hand to her chin and looks over at Uriel.
“I wish I had a gifting,” she says.
“You do,” I say, “Or at least I think so. As I understand it, I have one and you have one. The Origin created everyone with a gifting.”
“You are very mistaken,” Uriel interrupts. “I could never fly like that.”
“I’m not saying you can,” I say. “But we all have something unique. Some special quality that sets us apart from other angels.”
“Never knew that,” she says. “So what’s your gifting?”
“Don’t know.”
“Bet I can guess what your gifting is,” Uriel says.
“You can?”
“The ability to act broody and sad all the time.”
I shake my head and ignore Uriel’s jest. Christine laughs as she lays her hand out in front of my breed. He sniffs it and then licks it.
“Beautiful,” she says. “Did you craft this?”
“Yes. I have been crafting his species since they were the Origin’s first seedlings.”
“I was a Designer too you know, out in the Oceans. Uriel did structural work. It was great to have someone crafting reefs and structures while I was filling them with life.”
I drop my head into my hands.
If I respond, she will see it as more of an invitation to talk. I don’t need these friendships. I must stay focused and avoid all distractions.
“Ya know,” she says. “That soldier, acts different than the rest of us. It’s like something is a bit off with the Frosted.”
“He reminds me of somebody.” I respond before I realize I am doing it. His demeanor has bothered me since our first encounter at the Temple. It’s as if he conceals some secret that will be the ruin of us all. “I’m going to keep an eye on him.”
I rise and walk away without saying goodbye.
I have already made myself too accessible as it is. This sort of fraternizing will only dull my rage. I will need every ounce of hatred I have if I am to be the kind of force Terra needs me to be.
My breed follows behind me as we walk out toward the still lake that lies just beyond the Courtyard. He sees the water and excitedly runs ahead. He reaches the shallow end, dipping his paws, and then rolling around in the water. His fur clings to his body making him look half his size.
“What was that all about?” Sal approaches. “You’re off playing games with the Frosted?”
“I’m tired of being pushed around,” I say.
“You need to be smarter,” he says. “And don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m not just your friend, I am your captain now.”
I bite my tongue. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Sal says. “You play a game of politics now.”
“I don’t care for your politics.”
“Well, you will need to.”
“I’m here to make Rogues bleed, not make captains smile.”
“Wake up.” His neck pulsates. “There are only three stones left. That means only three of you will be permitted to rise up the ranks.”
“What do I care if I rise up the ranks? I’m not like you Sal. I serve and admire the Origin and the Prince, but I am no sycophant.”
Sal grinds his teeth.
“Sorry,” I say. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It better not have been,” he says. “Look, you can sit there and feel like you are all high and mighty all you want but the fact is actions have consequences. And possession of these stones could empower you for all of eternity.”
“I’m not here for power.”
“Yes, but don’t you want to be closer with the Prince? To know what it’s like to have that level of trust?”
I think about it, and I am a little disturbed by what I conclude. The loss of my parallel has truly devastated me. So much so that I am not truly sure that I care about the admiration of the Prince. To decline his favor amounts to a sin and is a sign that my heart is not so far removed from the Rogues whom I despise.
“Perhaps,” I say, “I should make myself care more”
Sal’s tension in his shoulder releases. “I know you don’t care about honors or power for its own sake. That’s admirable, honestly it is. But those who say they don’t care for power, simply don’t understand what that power can do.”
My breed nudges my leg, showing me the sparkling silver fish that he caught in the water. He drops it at my feet and runs back toward the water.
“Think about it,” Sal says. “If you win the stone, you call your own shots. When you become captain, you choose the time, the method of the battle. Nobody but the Prince can question you when you decide whether to extend your enemies mercy or death.”
“Rogues deserve no mercy,” I say.
Sal grins. “What if your new captains don’t agree with you? Are we angels not kind hearted by very nature?”
His words rock me at my core.
I see what could happen if I don’t work towards retrieving the stones. It’s not that I want one but rather that I must be mindful of which others could attain them. What if another new leader didn’t share my passion?
“Oh,” Sal says. “And is it enough for you if that Rogue were to die by another’s hand? Think about it: no low-level officer would get to face off with Cephus.”
“His blood belongs to me.”
“Then you must get that stone.” Sal says. “Or else you may not get that chance.”
Chapter Ten
THE SPARRING PARTNER
“AHA!” Uriel says flinging his wooden sword at me. “You are no match!”
I know he wants these words to strike fear in my heart. They don’t; rather, I feel embarrassed for him.
It seems that I actually have a knack for fighting. Perhaps experiencing so much pain allows me to focus intently on avoiding more pain in the future. I can reach a level of focus that these others just don’t realize they need.
I block his advances with my sword and even push him away with my feet, but I choose not to force him to the ground quite yet. I have actually grown to appreciate Uriel with his gruff and straight forward nature. He may not be the kindest soul in the camp but he is loyal. I owe him no obligation, but there is a part of me that can’t help but feel sorry for each of the recruits that I immediately dismantle. I do him the honor of allowing him to stand longer than the others I have fought today.
I decide it’s time to bring this little dance to a conclusion. I thrust my sword forward. The blunt end pounds against his hip forcing him to drop his sword.
“That hurt!” Uriel clutches his leg. “Why’d you have to hit me so hard?”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh come on,” Sal says. “They are wooden swords. You shouldn’t be reacting to it like that”
“Well, then you go and get stabbed in the gut and tell me how happy you feel.”
Christine laughs as Sal shakes his head.
“Laugh all you want, Christine,” Sal says. “But at least I’m not bound to him for all eternity. Auro and Apophos, get up here.”
I can tell Sal is pleased with my performance.
I step back and walk over to the stone wall that encircles the courtyard. I sit down and choose to watch, from a distance, the unevenly matched two face off. Auro, the tall mustached Angel who was helped by Uriel and Christine on his first day, now trembles as he faces Apophos, the biggest physical specimen of us all.
Even I feel a little intimidated by that mountain of
an angel.
A classic example of brains versus brawn. But brawn wins out when Apophos makes quick work of Auro. The giant slams his wooden spear against Auro’s mustached face, forcing the smaller combatant to the ground.
“That was amazing,” Christine says taking her seat next to me.
“You’re a beast” Uriel plops down next to her. “I felt like it was pointless to even swing at you.”
“You’re getting better,” I say.
“Just accept the compliment,” Uriel says. “You sound insincere when you deflect. Here, watch: tell me I am a great swimmer.”
“Tell you that you’re a good swimmer?”
“What? You don’t believe me? I can outswim any of you.”
I look at the others trying to figure out what he is talking about.
“Ignore him,” Christine says. “You upstaged him so he is feeling insecure. He’s reminding everyone about his natural strengths as an ocean Designer. But I take issue with him; I’m the better swimmer.”
Uriel scowls.
“But he is right about one thing,” Christine says. “You are a contender for the stone.”
“Thank you, but I am still learning just like all of you.”
“I’m just thankful I only sparred with the slow one,” Christine says.
“Raphael?” Uriel laughs. “He’s too lazy to cry mercy.”
“Uh oh,” Christine says. “Here comes trouble.”
The Frosted smiles as he steps into view. “Well done out there.”
“Thank you,” I say coldly. I rise to my feet.
He walks to my left, shaking his head. “But, you know, these wooden weapons, they don’t feel quite the same as the real thing.”
“It’s training,” Christine says. “That’s the point.”
“But don’t you want more than that?” He says. His eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “Why don’t we try a little more than a dress rehearsal?”
“No, thank you,” I say, turning back toward the bag. Sal’s words ring out in my head. “I’m over your little challenges.”
I cannot give into anything other than my desire to acquire those stones.
I feel a sharp point pressing up against my back.
My breed roars. He stands on all fours glaring at the Frosted. His mouth froths and spit drops onto the stone.
Heavens no. I have been in this situation before. I remember the biting pain. I hear the sounds and feel fear. My pulse quickens. I try to calm my mind.
I slowly turn to see him snarling. The vein in his neck pulsates as if he is a ravenous animal. He scowls, just like Cephus did in the Oasis.
“We are on the same side.” I lift my hands and show my palms.
He presses the blade into my side. “You are naïve.”
I’m in danger. I know that look in his eyes. I drop the wooden sword and clutch the real sword at my side.
Others crowd around us. I hear the mumbles but I can’t make out individual voices amidst the sounds. I feel a drop of sweat drip down my neck onto my back.
“You act like a Rogue,” I say.
“No,” the Frosted smiles. “I’m acting like myself.”
“No,” Sal says. “Put down your sword.”
The Frosted laughs. “And you are going to make us do this, how?”
“My decisions are your laws. As your captain, I can decree any punishment. I am authorized to kill you if it is for the Prince’s cause.”
“You mean you are allowed to kill me,” the Frosted laughs. “But I seriously doubt that you can.”
The metal moves from my side. I turn around. Sal faces the Frosted. Both have real swords drawn. Sal’s hand tremors, causing the tip of the blade to vibrate.
The Frosted drops into first position. “Rank is no substitute for skill.”
“The Prince chose me,” Sal says. “To defy me is to defy the Prince.”
“We all have our role to play,” the Frosted sings as he swings his sword from the side. “Jab. Don’t swing.”
Sal dodges backward and falls to the ground. “How dare you! Back off!”
The Frosted leaps forward after Sal, his sword before him. He jabs forcefully as Sal tries to pull away.
I force the Frosted’s blade away from Sal just in time.
The Frosted turns to me. A smile creeps along his face. “Oh, so you do wish to play?”
Christine steps forward. Uriel joins her and raises his sword.
“Let’s all just calm down,” Christine says.
The Frosted steps forcefully toward them, sword drawn. “Or what? Will you join him?”
They back up.
I point my blade at his back now. I grip my sword tightly. He may have been handpicked by the Prince, but I don’t see him as a fellow soldier. I’m tired of ignoring the obvious. He talks like a Rogue. He acts like a Rogue. All I see is a Rogue.
I remember the look on Terra’s face. I taste the salt of my tears once again. The blood pulses within my body. All the hurt, all the pain radiates through my limbs. My heart pounds within my chest.
He turns around and I lunge at him with full force. The muscles in my legs constrict as I approach.
I don’t care if you strike me. I will endure any pain so long as you pay for what happened to Terra.
I thrust my sword once. He deflects.
I swing again but it only hits the air.
He swings at me with a mad fury. I fall backward onto the ground. He looks intent on killing me as he jabs the blade forward.
I don’t know what else to do, so I grab one of the round stones off the ground and lift it up as it shields his blow. His sword vibrates out of his hands, and I rise to my feet.
“Now this is a real fight.” The Frosted smiles. “Feel that rush of fear, adrenaline, and spite. Don’t you just prefer the real thing to the perversion?”
I don’t want to admit it but it’s true; I do enjoy this and I feel more exhilarated than I have ever felt before. It’s as if I am just on the verge of satisfying my hunger with one last bite. I look at his heart and point my blade. I lick the roof of my mouth. “Tell me your name, so I can know who’s skin I pierce.”
He surprises me and kicks me in the chest. I fall and my head slams against the concrete.
“My name is mine to give and mine to conceal.” He stands above me, pointing his blade at my jugular. I feel the point prick my skin. “You can hear it once you have shown yourself not to be such a weakling.”
His voice sounds identical to the Rogue with the scar at the mouth.
Sal steps in between us. “Drop your weapon.”
Now, Uriel, Christine, and Auro stand beside Sal. They look emboldened by the real and imminent threat of losing one of their own.
I worry because I know that even combined they could not defeat this enemy. I have just learned firsthand how fierce he is.
The Frosted glares at Sal and smiles. He must see the fear on his captain’s face.
Sal breathes heavily and broadens his shoulders. “All of you, get into your lines.”
Everyone scrambles to attention. I try to make my way into my position. My blood still pumps in my veins. My fingers twitch as I attempt to stand.
The Frosted remains in his spot. I notice, that blood pours from a wound in his leg. A wound I did not realize I inflicted.
“Let me make this very clear,” Sal says. “We cannot defeat the Rogues with disorder. We must act as one unit. In this war, we will respect rank. We will respect each other.”
“Fine.” The Frosted drops his weapon. “We all play our roles.”
Sal’s shoulders emit a faint smoke. I wonder for a moment if this is Sal's gifting beginning to manifest, as a dark black cloud hides his presence.
Sal turns to the Frosted. “You shall receive a due punishment for your insubordination. Take him to the Prince."
Two Ceremonials approach the Frosted. They place their arms on his shoulders. For a moment I fear for them as he forces them to the ground.
“I
know my way to the Temple,” he declares.
My shoulders relax.
He may have beaten me in battle, but the Prince will deal with him.
Chapter Eleven
The Award
THE TEMPLE ATTENDERS SCURRY about the chambers carrying large silver platters. Dressed in a muddy brown robe, one smug Attender leans forward and places a round bowl of stacked manna of all different colors before us.
I stare at the bowl for a moment. I am not used to such extravagance. Angels only eat for pleasure and community. We don’t have a need for any of this, so the few times I have sat to eat were special occasions. Here in the training, we eat daily.
Along with berries and other products of the soil, we mainly consume manna, which is a food that comes directly from the heavens. Manna must be consumed the same day it is created or else it will go sour.
The Attender’s eyebrows lower as he backs away from the table.
“Thank you,” Christine says, but the Attender does not release his scowl.
“Thank the Origin! I love this part of training.” Uriel digs his dirt covered hands into the serving plate.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Christine says.
I spot Sal walking into the great hall. He shakes his head back and forth, as if disagreeing with his own mind. He takes a seat at the head table, beside the empty Prince’s position.
“What’s wrong with him?” Christine looks over at Sal.
“I reckon,” Uriel says. “Sal’s feeling a little foolish having been handled by one of his own troops.”
“You aren’t going to eat that are you?” A fat hand grabs a piece of apple off my plate.
I shoot a glare in his direction.
“There’s plenty of food on the platters,” Christine says. “Why do you have to grab his?”
“It’s just so far to reach,” he says. “And it doesn’t look like he was going to eat it anyways.”
“Be careful there mate,” Uriel says. “This is the one who sent the Frosted to the healing sands.”
“I just grazed his leg,” I say. “But hopefully the Prince will deal with him.”
“Oh he will,” Uriel says. “The Prince is gracious but rumors are that he is no stranger to wrath.”
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