Eternity

by Nealis, James

  “I concede,” Raphael says.

  The captain shakes his head and slams the wooden sword on Raphael’s back one time before allowing his retreat.

  “That’s enough for today,” the Frosted announces. “Get back to quarters and clean up. Those of you who need Healers, go. Eat and sleep well, because tomorrow I will show you true pain.”

  The others hobble and struggle toward the barracks. Despite their multiple injuries, their smiles show a sense of pride. I stare at them with disbelief.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Challenge

  “IT’S TIME TO EARN the third of the four stones.”

  The Frosted lifts the stone into the air, and the other recruits chase after their much swifter captain. I, however, delay.

  From the ground, I watch them all soar into the morning sky. They rise and bow climbing ever higher. Their bodies look like black shadows crossing the sun. The dark empty images are fitting representations for the mindless followers of a filthy Rogue.

  I trot and leap into the air. My wings corral a gust of wind and I jet upward. It takes me only moments to catch up with the rest of the clan, though they are far behind the lightning speed of the Frosted.

  Christine flies beside me. “Do you have the same sinking feeling in your stomach that I do?”

  “There is nothing else he can do to me. I no longer fear pain.”

  Christine shrugs. “I’m pretty sure you get more broody as the days go on.”

  The top of the Temple comes into view. The large pyramid supports a flat platform on the top that overlooks the Courtyard.

  I land on the roof beside Christine. It makes for a sturdy landing platform. The Frosted is already midway into a speech.

  “Animals that are obedient to their instincts are the most likely to survive. They don’t debate their actions, rather when they are hungry, they eat. When they are threatened, they attack. We need to be an army made up of this same trait, a group of predators on the prowl.”

  Christine leans toward me. “If mindlessly following our instincts makes a great warrior, then Uriel could take on all the Rogues on his own.”

  The Frosted overhears us. He points to Raphael.

  “You,” the Frosted says. “Clip their wings.”

  “What?” Christine says. “Is he serious?”

  “They’ll grow back,” the Frosted says.

  “The same won’t be said about your arm,” I say grasping my sword.

  “Quit your blustering,” he says. “The Prince trusted me to lead you. Or do you wish to join the Rogues?”

  I feel Christine’s hand press against mine. “No, Michael.”

  I will clip your head from your body when the first opportunity comes.

  “Clip them,” he orders.

  Raphael takes the knife from the Frosted. He approaches Christine first. He smiles, licking his lips with his abnormally long tongue. Christine trembles as the feathers drop to the ground. Raphael rubs his hands along her arms, slowly feeling her skin. He acts as though he is comforting her, but her eyes grow dark and empty.

  I grip my sword. I cannot watch much more of this, but I have waited too long. Raphael is finished with Christine and he rubs his hands together as he approaches me. He grabs my shoulder and flips me around. I hate myself for not fighting back.

  He brutally chops at my wings and I feel the weight drop to the ground. He spends longer with me than any of the other recruits, most likely because my wings out-span those of my companions.

  Raphael walks away and moves to Auro who stands beside me.

  I beat my wings against the air, but it is to no avail. I do not lift even so much as an inch from the top of the tower. The wind passes between the feathers as if I were trying to lift up water with open fingers.

  The Frosted finishes off Raphael’s wings. Raphael’s smile is gone. For a moment, it appears that a small grin flashes on Christine’s face as she revels in this brief moment of justice.

  My new captain’s wings remain completely intact.

  Sal approaches, flying from the other platform on the tower. “We are ready.”

  I watch the Frosted lean in to discuss something quietly with his co-leader.

  My eyes wander from them toward the view over the Courtyard. I see my old home where I lived with Terra. The sight of the balcony where we spent our last night looking up at the Aurora burns a hole in my heart. I knew then that I would never forget that night, but I never foresaw that it would be the last happy night of my existence.

  I spot Uriel standing on the opposite Temple platform. His eyes twitching. I wonder if, with all his bluster and blithering, he is feeling the same humiliation I do right now. An angel whose wings have been clipped.

  The Frosted and Sal hover in the air between our two platforms. It feels as if they just want to show their power of flight. Taunting us.

  “War is unpredictable,” the Frosted declares. “It’s inevitable that some surprise obstacle will stand in the way of victory.”

  “And we won’t always have all our tools at our disposal,” Sal says. “So you must be resourceful.”

  “You must be creatively violent.”

  Uriel fidgets on the roof. He shakes his head and shouts back. “Stop your mindless bloviating and tell us what you would have us do.”

  “Improvise,” the Frosted says.

  Sal nods. “You will battle each other for the next stone.”

  Two angels rise from the ground carrying a large cage filled with a creature about three times the size of my breed. The skin looks wet and slimy. It growls showing large black teeth.

  “The victorious team will return with this beast,” Sal says. “You will hunt it down and bring us its head.”

  “By whatever means necessary,” the Frosted declares.

  Sal looks agitated. “To the victors, you will each receive a day of rest as well as a double portion of manna at your tables.”

  “Even more importantly, the victors will vote on who receives the third stone. But both teams will also select their weakest member. That deadweight will be punished by the captain in whatever means the captain deems adequate. ”

  The Frosted looks directly at me as he speaks. I know he wants nothing more than to punish me. But his taunting doesn’t frighten me. It only fuels my hatred.

  The Ceremonials disappear. They fly at near imperceptible speeds toward the forest, disappearing under the tree cover. They return as quickly as they left, but now they hold an empty cage.

  “One last word of advice,” the Frosted says. “Your objective is the creature we let loose in the forest. Do what you can to obtain it. But don’t forget, your true obstacle is more than the animal. Rather, it is your opponents who will do whatever they can to rip victory from your grasp.”

  “Be on your guard,” Sal says.

  “Strength be with you,” the Frosted proclaims.

  “And the favor of the Prince,” Sal adds as they both fly off, leaving us to our own. “Because you’re going to need it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Hunt

  “WHO MADE YOU THE PRINCE?” Raphael growls.

  “Oh,” Christine says. “You have a better idea?”

  “Um, let’s see, a better plan than ‘let’s all just spread out in the forest and look around’?” Raphael says. “Yeah I think so. It’s called any other strategy than that one.”

  “Yeah and we are supposed to all just cling to the leadership of the sniveling, wing clipper.”

  Raphael looks like he would pounce on Christine if only it didn’t require so much physical exertion.

  Meanwhile, Christine’s face grows redder than the scar on my chest. She raises her hand above her head trying to silence everyone around her, but they ignore her.

  Auro keeps trying to speak but his voice does not carry over all the commotion. He twists his mouth downward as his thin mustache follows suit. Finally, he puts his two fingers in his mouth and whistles. Everyone stops talking. He raises his h
ands as he speaks. “Perhaps, I could respectfully submit an alternative. Prudence dictates that we figure out a way to get down from this roof. That should be our primary objective.”

  “Got any bigger words there, brainiac?” Raphael jeers.

  The group erupts in more overlapping arguments as they all propose different ideas for getting down from the roof.

  I press my palm to my forehead.

  Every minute that passes during their arguments is another footstep Sal’s team takes toward the prize. My chance of rising out from under the control of the Rogue grows bleaker with each passing minute.

  I walk away from the bickering group of recruits.

  Standing at the corner of the large roof, I look down at the Courtyard below. Sure enough, Sal’s team has already managed to mobilize. They have already reached the ground. How did they do that without the use of their wings?

  I notice Uriel sitting on one of the bean bags. He collects his breath from what must have been a difficult descent.

  I can’t allow them to beat me.

  I examine the facets along the sides of our platform. The Temple’s pyramid shape presents angles which are beneficial for a descent. I’d guess about 120 degrees. But still, climbing this would be perilous. If I were to lose my grip, I would slide at an ever increasing speed until I hit the ground.

  I walk the periphery of the platform. On the eastern side, I find a terrace, halfway down the angular slope. It must be some sort of access point to the Temple’s second story. If I could get to this portion of the building, I would be safely at the halfway point. Perhaps I would still lose my grip, but it would be a much shorter distance to fall.

  I look around for anything to which I can tether myself.

  Nothing.

  Then, an idea hits me. I rip the sword from its scabbard.

  Christine calls out to me.

  She is too late.

  I have already propelled myself off the side of the ledge. I am sliding, my back rubbing against the smooth plaster, down the angled structure toward the second floor. The wind rushes against my face as the platform grows ever closer. My speed increases much quicker than I suspected.

  I turn and jam my sword into the clay but I don’t pierce the structure. I have miscalculated. I try again to smash my sword into the slope, but it does no good. Instead, the metal sharpens and sparks as it drags against the roof.

  The approaching platform grows bigger in my vision.

  I see a hanging tapestry dropping from overhead. A decorative remnant from the Acceptance.

  I ram my sword into the cloth; it lodges between the threads.

  I dangle from the tapestry.

  “Michael!” Christine yells from up top.

  I look down.

  I am only a few feet above the lower roof.

  The tapestry slips, and I, along with the entire fabric, tumble onto the roof. I pull the fabric underneath me just in time to soften my fall.

  The rest of my team cheers for me.

  “Lend us a hand!” Christine yells out.

  I consider for a moment whether or not I should help them. This task would probably be much easier if I were to just go ahead and do this on my own. But I remember I must have their vote in order to get that stone.

  I lift the large tapestry and bunch it up at the end of the roof.

  “Come on down,” I shout. “I will catch you.”

  Christine is the first to slide down the slope. Her speed grows faster and faster. Her brunette hair blows out behind her like one of the Prince’s banners at the Temple door.

  “Slow yourself with your weapon,” I say.

  She complies and I grab her just as she hits the fabric.

  One by one, the remainder of my team follows. Raphael is the last to take the plunge. He requires significant coaxing. Christine implores that we leave him behind.

  Raphael closes his eyes and takes the step forward. His large body pulls him down faster than the rest of us. He starts to scream, clawing at the air. His erratic movements unnerve me and my instincts take over. I pull away just as he approaches the end of the drop for fear that he will injure me.

  His round body slams against the hard pavement.

  “My leg!” Raphael cries.

  Christine’s smile could not be any larger.

  I shoot her a nasty glance and help Raphael to his feet. He indicates that he will be alright and I lead everyone through a door at the left side of the roof. We are now in the outer chambers of the Temple.

  The light in the great hall seems all but snuffed out, and I can barely see as I navigate the steps that line the wall. Unlike the last time I stood in this hall, the fiery stones no longer emanate the small hills of flames. Rather, they now appear more like dull orange bulbs.

  I lead the group toward the exit and try to push open the door. It won’t budge.

  “Out of my way,” Raphael says. “It requires a Ceremonial.”

  He strolls up to the front of the line as we all wait. He pauses, looking over at his former post. He slides his fingertips along the marble desktop and he sighs as if remembering an old friend. He then turns and presses his palms against the frame of the door. The lock releases.

  I squint my eyes as we exit the darkness, the sunlight bursting overhead. I scan the Courtyard again for Sal’s team but I don’t see them. They must be well on their way.

  Meanwhile, the arguing reignites as the others debate the strategy.

  “Auro, you take the Eastern portion,” Christine says.

  “But why would the creature travel east,” Auro says, “when the sun is about to set?”

  “Why wouldn’t he? What do you know?” Christine says.

  “I’m a Scribe,” Auro grits his teeth smugly. “I have studied generalized migratory patterns since the beginning of time.”

  “Fine. Then Raph—” Christine rolls her eyes when she notices that he is not even with the group. “Stand up and get back over here.”

  “But I’m tired,” Raphael says.

  “We clearly already know who the worst member of the team is,” Auro whispers to me. “Talk about a glaring level of angelic deficiency.”

  I turn and block out their banter. Time continues to pass while I examine the circle. Beans lay all over the Courtyard. The bags are strewn about as well. Sal’s team must have left the Courtyard before we arrived

  I see the cage left behind by the Ceremonials, the door ajar.

  Inside it lies some red cloth bedding. I pull it out and throw it on my shoulders. I walk back from the Temple toward the barracks.

  Auro spots me this time and motions for the others to follow.

  I hear Christine calling my name. She bosses some order but I ignore it.

  My breed runs up to my knees. The sandpaper tongue slides along my calf.

  “Hey there,” I say, dropping to my knee. I lift the cloth to the nose of the animal. It sniffs. “Do you have the scent?”

  I unlatch the tethering and the beast answers my question by galloping northward into the woods.

  I turn and chase after it. His front legs bound forward in unison as his back legs carry through underneath him. The sinews release and constrict with each step.

  I have never run with my breed before, so I haven’t appreciated until now the great speed I crafted into him. Even as I try to catch my breath, I marvel at his grace and motion.

  Loud, pounding footsteps follow after me. The others shout for me to slow down, but they dare not stop running for fear they will lose me. I turn toward them, still bounding over stumps and grass, holding my finger to my mouth. But they fail to heed my advice and continue their shouting.

  We pass through more trees and bound over taller bushes. The tree cover is so thick the light of the sun barely shines through now. We are deep into the woods. It feels as though the morning has already given way to twilight.

  My breed slows his pace right before a small pond. I slow my steps to a light trot as I approach behind him. The beast looks b
ack at me. He grunts.

  “Couldn’t we have taken a minute to think this through first,” Auro whispers.

  “We are close,” I whisper. “We need to be quiet or we will scare it off.”

  Crouching in the underbrush, my breed stoops down onto his belly and slowly slides forward. A bush pulls to the left, and I see what the branches formerly concealed. The leathery beast, that we hunt, drinks from the pond. I pet my breed on the head and order him to stay put. I won’t risk another injury like those he sustained at the Oasis.

  I point to Auro and Christine. They nod as they sneak slowly to the shore of the water. I point to another bearded recruit to take the northern flank and then to the others to sneak toward the southern corner.

  Once they take position, I creep through the bushes. The animal is so engaged in the pond that it doesn’t seem to sense my presence.

  Christine, now standing behind it, widens her stance so that it cannot flee backward. I raise my palms indicating to the other recruits that they stand perfectly still.

  I stand within my arm’s length of the creature. The sound of its tongue lapping up the water is the only noise that can be heard. The beast is ours.

  “Where are you guys?”

  Raphael’s voice echoes off the waterway as he just now catches up with our group.

  The creature spooks.

  Leaping toward it, I graze its side with my fingertips, but it pulls away.

  I curse and spit as the animal bolts out of reach.

  A loud growl ensues and the bushes rustle.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Split Decision

  MY BREED STANDS. His claws rip into the flesh of the slithery creature. The beast tries to break free from my breed’s grasp, but he can’t. I look down and pet the loyal animal’s mane. He purrs satisfied.

  “I found it!” Raphael screams. “I have captured the beast!”

  “You’re a little late to this party.” Christine pushes him out of the way.

  “What a beautiful creature,” Auro leans down to inspect my breed.

  “He’s my design,” I say.