Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  She launched into a detailed speech. If these magnificent creatures wished to know her story, or anything else for that matter, then she would tell them. Emily started with entering Lucifan with Chara and Adelpha, but kept going back to tell more and more. Surely, she thought, the angels needed to know everything, absolutely everything. That is what they had asked for, and that was what she would tell them. She would tell them anything, anything at all, if they asked for it.

  The angels never interrupted her, or even made a sound. Their eyes stayed, unwavering, on her. They were so solid, their attention undivided, that Emily was sure they had no concept of comfort. They only had concern for others and, in this moment, concern for her. When she realized this, she tried to start over again, this time adding more detail.

  “Please, Emily,” Ephron spoke up. “There is no need to start from the beginning. You are doing wonderfully.”

  “Yes, sir . . . mister . . . master . . . lord,” she stopped when she didn’t know what other praise she could say. “As I was saying, the samurai stepped forward to kill me, but the vampire, Count Drowin, stopped him.”

  They listened to the rest of it. She even told them about Sir Gavin’s rescue, how handsome he was and how gallant he was when he saved Duncan’s life. Nothing seemed too personal before the angels, and Emily did not hesitate to admit her feelings. As the words came pouring from her soul, she sighed in relief that Gavin was not here to hear them, because she was certain nothing would stop her. She continued on to when they’d landed in the courtyard and was about to explain what happened next when she was interrupted, by Mark.

  “Yes,” Sir Mark said, stepping forward, “and the rest I told you. I doubted her story at the time, and I still urge caution of what you’ve heard. The people she saw may have used false names.”

  Emily stammered her next words, surprised that the old knight had interrupted her. How could he? They’d asked everything of her, and he was defying that. No one should defy the angels. Their mere presence made the air heavy and the world a tiny, insignificant scrap of dirt. She would try for a thousand years to be worthy of the compassion they gave freely—the love she felt in this moment drowning her heart—and still that would not be enough.

  Emily felt the urge to stand up and berate Mark right there, but stopped. His interjection had caused her to become distracted long enough to notice her cheeks were wet. Curiously, she touched a hand to her face.

  I’m crying, she realized. When did I start crying? What is happening to me?

  If Ephron was offended by Mark’s interruption, he did not show it. He held up a hand, asking for silence and pausing for a moment. Emily waited patiently, hand still wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes without explanation.

  Then, in the silence, she could have sworn a harp was playing. It was faint, and its origin unknown. It seemed to come from everywhere and yet nowhere. When she tried to focus on it, the sound evaded her. Then she heard it again, only it wasn’t a harp this time. It was a voice, a quiet, gentle voice. Suddenly, Emily realized what she was hearing. Someone or something was speaking to her. The sound was coming from inside her own head.

  Finally, Ephron looked to his sister, Damaris. He gave her a nod, and Damaris tilted her head up to speak clearly.

  “Bring in Jack Borgan and the one who captured him and rescued Emily,” she said.

  Her words were like honey spun into the air. A sweet sound that melted Emily’s ears and made her shudder with uncontrolled feelings of love. She wanted to listen to Damaris speak again, and again and again and again.

  Then she heard the voice, the voice in her head. It was like a whisper, the faintest of whispers, and no matter how much she tried, the voice did not increase. She looked around to see if anyone else was hearing it, but no one showed any signs.

  Mark stepped back and walked to the wooden doors. He opened them, and Emily watched as Gavin stepped into the chamber. With him was a leprechaun that appeared very displeased. The short humanoid was dressed as the ones she’d seen before in a simple suit to hide his wealth, and he walked with a stiff lip and swinging shoulders. He eyes were narrow, his nose fat and large, but Emily didn’t consider him ugly. He looked like a pudgy gnome as far as she could tell, but the leprechaun’s confident face turned to shock when he laid eyes on Emily. Although she had never seen him before, he most certainly recognized her.

  “You!” he said. “I’m being arrested for attempted murder of you? Attempted nothing, you’re supposed to be dead! Those damn ogres lied to me!”

  “Maybe if you paid them more,” Gavin replied, giving the leprechaun a push to get him walking again, “they wouldn’t be so fickle.”

  “If ogres didn’t take work for cheap, there’d be no point to hiring them,” Jack spit back. “Damn minotaurs charge too much, and not enough of you knights do dirty deeds. Too many of you are too damn noble. Tell me the last time being noble made you rich!”

  The leprechaun slurred the word ‘noble.’ He made it sound like such a despicable quality, as if it was something to be ashamed of. Emily felt her throat well into a lump, and she was slightly annoyed that Gavin didn’t reply as he thrust Mr. Borgan forward into the angels’ glow. Gavin stepped forward, too, and knelt down next to Emily. The leprechaun sighed and then knelt, showing defiance in his every move.

  “Amazing aren’t they?” Gavin whispered.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Emily whispered back.

  “How could I put this into words? Don’t worry, you get used to the feeling after a while. Mark’s a perfect example of that.”

  “What’d you say, Shaw?” O’Conner asked.

  “Nothing, sir,” Gavin lied.

  Ephron held up his hand again, and the room was filled with silence once more. Emily listened to her breathing and the music in her head. She realized, with a certainty she could not explain, that it was coming from one of the angels. One of the angels was speaking to her. No, not speaking to her, communicating to her mind. She looked up at the angels and saw that one of them was looking at her. It was that same one from before, Quartus, the grey-haired angel. His light-filled eyes were directed at her with purpose, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was him.

  One of the other angels, the brother with red hair named Uriah, stepped off his throne and walked toward the group. With each step, Emily’s heart beat faster. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his glory, but at the same time she dared not and even feared to do so, for she was not sure she was pure enough to withstand such contact. Uriah stopped a few short steps from them, and Emily lifted her head and noticed that he was barefoot. Then, she glanced around to confirm that the rest of them were barefoot. The only clothing they wore was their simple gowns.

  “Sir Gavin Shaw,” Uriah said, “upon your honor as a knight, upon the promise and oath you swore, can you confirm the events involving Jack Borgan’s ogres and Emily Stout?”

  “I swear upon my honor, my promise, and my oath,” Gavin said. “Jack Borgan ordered his ogres to capture Emily and eat her.”

  “Jack Borgan,” Uriah said, the soft yet stern voice piercing Emily’s heart. “You have been charged with attempting to kill an innocent. There are a number of witnesses, and you have denied nothing.”

  Out of the corner of Emily’s eye, she saw the leprechaun sneer.

  “You are guilty again, it seems,” Uriah continued. “I wish I could say this is the first time we have seen you in this chamber, but that is not true. We would send you to jail, or ask you to never commit such a crime again, but we both know that will not have any effect. Your desire and belief that you are exempt from our laws grows more perilous for others every day we leave your crimes unpunished.”

  Emily watched Borgan wrinkle his nose in pride. She had to suppress the strong urge to smack him.

  “So, drastic measures will be taken this time,” Uriah continued, “to ensure you find hurting others to be a bad investment. As punishment for your crime, you will donate—”


  The leprechaun’s head snapped up in horror.

  “—half your savings—”

  “NO!” Borgan cried out.

  “—to charity,” Uriah finished.

  “NOOO!” Borgan wailed.

  All of the leprechaun’s previous confidence blew away in the wind of Uriah’s words. The leprechaun stared aghast with terror in his eyes while his hand dug into the carpet at his feet. At that point, the two knights who had been guarding the door stepped in and walked towards the leprechaun.

  “This punishment is severe,” Uriah continued, “because we hope that it will teach you to obey the laws this city requires.”

  “NOOO! You can’t do this!” Jack screamed, lifting his arms up as if begging for his life. He shook in place, clasping his hands together and rocking them back and forth.

  Uriah had no reply. He waited calmly for the two knights to come forward and grab Mr. Borgan under each arm. The leprechaun barely seemed to register the touch. All his attention was focused on the angel, his mouth and eyes open in disbelief.

  “If we see you in here again, Jack Borgan,” Uriah warned, “the punishment will only be worse.”

  “You can’t do this!” Borgan muttered, breathless. “You can’t! That’s my money. My money! Mine, damn you! MINE!”

  His words fell on deaf ears. Uriah turned and walked back to his throne, and Borgan’s pleading died as he was dragged, kicking and crying, away from the angels. He struggled and cried out, his horror slowly giving ground to anger.

  “You’ll pay for this, angels!” Mr. Borgan yelled. “You can’t do this! You will pay for this!”

  The angels ignored him, and just before the doors closed, the leprechaun began to weep. The sobbing started as a pathetic whimper and was heard only briefly before the heavy doors were pulled shut.

  Following his departure, there was a brief moment of silence. Emily couldn’t believe the leprechaun’s reaction. It was as if the angels had ordered his mother killed or decreed that he be tortured for the rest of his life. Emily didn’t know how much money the leprechaun had, but he certainly didn’t need all of it if he had it just laying around, sitting and saving. Were leprechauns truly so greedy?

  “Ephron, sir,” Mark said. “Forgive me for saying this, but the leprechauns will not be pleased when they hear of this.”

  “We understand your concern,” the sister with blonde hair, Zarah, said. “It pains us to punish any creature, but trust us when we say that our ruling was just.”

  Emily believed it. She believed every word the angels said, and she would do anything they asked. She looked up at them again and realized how beautiful they all were. Even Sir Gavin’s perfectly chiseled chin looked like a deformity next to their beauty.

  “Sir,” Emily spoke up, raising a hand. “I believe the woman I heard in Mr. Borgan’s bank is another amazon traveling with us, but I don’t know why Count Drowin would want a basilisk.”

  “Count Drowin is a relatively new vampire, Emily Stout,” Ephron explained. “It is likely that he seeks to increase his power by killing off his rivals, the other older vampires. Their race is not subject to time and disease, like us, and therefore does not age or die by many mortal means.”

  “Good,” Mark said. “Let them kill each other, I say. I feel that the city can only benefit from it.”

  “I’m afraid that will not be to anyone’s benefit, actually,” Ephron replied, sounding woefully sad. “We have been trying to make inroads with the vampires, hoping to calm their violent tendencies so that peace can be found. A new, power-driven vampire like Count Drowin could ruin our plans to finally quell the crime that has plagued this city. I fear this is not good news at all, Sir Mark O’Conner.”

  Mark swallowed and did not argue further. Ephron looked to Emily.

  “As for the woman in your ranks,” he said, “if you are right, then you must be careful. However, I would also caution you to guard yourself from feelings of distrust. Humans, all too frequently, are quick to assume the guilt in others they do not like.”

  “Yes, Ephron.”

  Her thoughts suddenly shifted, pulled as if someone was trying to focus her attention. It was Quartus, the only angel who had not spoken. He was entering her thoughts again, shifting her attention to the present and to Ephron. It shocked her that anything at all could touch her so deeply. In her mind, Ephron’s words echoed once more without her command to do so. Then she could hear the voice again, Quartus’ voice, still too quiet to understand.

  This is amazing, she thought. What are these angels that can do this? And why?

  “We thank you for your story, Emily Stout,” Ephron said to her. “We hope your next trip to Lucifan will be much more pleasant. You may go now. Sir Gavin Shaw will escort you.”

  The music in Emily’s head came to a close. She attempted to hear it again, to search for it, but silence filled her mind. Reluctantly, she rose but stayed silent, unsure of what words to use to excuse herself from the angels’ presence. In the end, she only nodded again and followed Gavin to the exit. She wanted to turn and thank them for something, anything, everything, but once again was stopped because she could not think of something worthy to say.

  I truly am a naïve little girl from the plains, she thought, and that made her sad. Worse, it made her feel unworthy of the attention the angels had given her, and she felt right in saying nothing to them. She had nothing important to say anymore.

  When the chamber door closed behind them, the leprechaun was nowhere to be seen, and the two knights had resumed their vigilance. Emily stopped outside the chamber and took a few moments to catch her breath.

  “Absolutely amazing, aren’t they?” Gavin asked.

  “Yes, they are,” Emily replied. “That was unnatural. I couldn’t control myself.”

  “We call it the ‘aura,’ and it’s heavy under the glow of all five of them. Trust me, you did well. Most people begin admitting petty crimes they’ve done in the past almost immediately upon seeing them. I was rather surprised you held up and stayed focused.”

  “Thank you,” Emily smiled and blushed. “I guess that explains a lot. I can see what Mark meant by ‘I hope you brought a handkerchief.’ I would have rolled into a ball if I’d tried lying to them.”

  “Well, after a while, you get used to the feeling,” Gavin shrugged. “It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it wears off once you become used to it. Also, it doesn’t have the same effect on everyone, but it’s still a wonder.”

  “I think one of them was speaking to me. It was Quartus. He was telling me to remember what the angels were saying, I think.”

  Gavin’s face contorted, revealing his doubt so strongly that Emily tensed. For a moment, she thought she’d said something insulting.

  “That’s not possible, Emily,” Gavin finally said. “Quartus never speaks. He can’t, actually. You must have just been hearing things.”

  “No, really,” Emily pressed. “I heard his voice in my head. I felt him pulling my thoughts. It was like how the aura touched my heart, his mind touched mine.”

  Gavin eyed her with his disbelief still plainly written. He searched her face for evidence of the truth, but finding no reason for Emily to lie, he decided to shrug it off instead.

  “Do you hear the voice anymore?” he asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “Ah, see?” Gavin replied, lightning fast, snapping his fingers. “You were just overcome by feelings of awe. Trust me, all sorts of strange things happen to people who meet the angels for the first time. You should have seen Duncan. He puked.”

  Gavin laughed and started walking down the stairs, brushing the conversation off with confidence so quickly that Emily was partially infected by it. Perhaps Gavin was right, she thought. Maybe she was just ‘overcome by awe’ and thought she heard Quartus speaking to her. Yet as soon as she thought that, she knew she didn’t believe it. Quartus had spoken to her, though for what purpose, she could not tell.

  Fortunately, there would be time enou
gh to think about that later. So, Emily shook off her feelings of wonder and started walking back down the stairs. As she did so, she realized her legs felt stiff. Apparently her entire body had been tense throughout the brief trial. When she caught back up with Gavin, she veered the conversation to a question she had asked before.

  “Sir Gavin?” Emily asked, shyness returning to her words. “Would now be a proper time for you to tell me how you became a knight?”

  “I wish it were, Miss Stout,” he frowned, “but once I escort you back to, what was her name?”

  “Chara, her name is Chara. She’s my grandmother.”

  “Oh, I see,” his eyes popped. “I wish you had told me that earlier. But yes, once I escort you to your grandmother, I will have to go back to the chamber lest they need me again. Besides, I like giving you a reason to come and find me again.”

  He flashed a smile, and Emily blushed.

  “Well, alright,” she said, “but you must promise to tell me the next time we meet.”

  “I promise, Miss Stout. I swear on my honor, my promise, and my oath.”

  When they reached Chara, she was tapping her foot. Her face also bore that same impatience, and she gave Gavin a glare when he said his goodbyes to Emily. As soon as he was out of sight, Chara turned to her granddaughter.

  “I’m going to save you a lot of heartache right now, Emily,” she leaned in again. “Don’t fall for a knight. It’s every little girl’s dream, and they know it.”

  Emily sighed and looked away. It seemed her new mother was even more protective than the last.

  “Mother, don’t worry about me, please,” Emily said, trying to sidestep the embarrassing conversation. “I think we have bigger problems on our hands right now.”

  Changing the subject worked, and Chara linked her arm into Emily’s. As one, they started walking.

  “Very well then,” Chara relented. “Now, I know you’ve been thinking about this samurai you saw. Okamoto Karaoshi was it?”

  “Yes, but Sir Gavin said he was off limits.”