“Shall we try this once more?”
“No!” shouted the Thing.
Ah. He’d found his mark.
“Speak then, beast!” Azrael barked.
“The Council. . .they suspect. . .they suspect the girl is the Herald,” it said, breaking down into tears at the betrayal of its secret.
“What?” Azrael hissed, coming around again to face him. “Why? Tell me what you know!”
“I don’t know anything more than that,” it cried, shaking harder still. “I only know they suspect her to be the Herald, that’s all. I swear,” the creature finished, its head flopping forward as it lost consciousness.
The Herald.
So, it was true. Along with the awakening of the vessels, it seemed the path was being laid for the return of the seraphim. Azrael felt uneasy for the first time in his many long years of existence in these mortal plains.
He had to work quickly.
In my dream, I was flying.
I was high above the city line, watching as it disappeared below me. The wind was colder up here, but I enjoyed the feeling of it as it swept past my cheeks, refreshing and clean. I lifted my face higher, starting to smile when suddenly I realized.
This was no dream.
I was being held by either arm by two of the winged-beings, a larger male whose name I didn’t know, and the red-head. Ahead of us, Tristan and the woman were flying. Flying. Their wings appeared enormous as they lifted and bowed upwards and downwards and upwards again, the long feathers at the tips of their black wings splayed like the digits of a hand. I looked frantically above me and then below me, suddenly terrified I was going to fall. In response to my shock, I began pulling my arms away, wanting one to let go so I could wrap my arms and legs around either of them and hold on for dear life.
“Larin, you’re okay! Stop moving!” The red-head cried, looking down towards me.
“Be still!” snapped the other one. They suddenly came up short, stopping in mid-flight. Their wings continued to flap as they struggled with me, all of us hovering from a very, very great height.
“Take me down!” I screamed, kicking my legs.
“Larin!” the red-head said. “Stop! You’re going to get us all killed!”
Tristan had noticed our difficulties and had circled back around behind us, his wings creating great currents as the wind broke around them. The air was swept back towards me from the force of his flapping, as his wings heaved in a frontwards motion to keep him level with us. He was frowning at me, his strange eyes gleaming darkly. I noticed a long, serrated edge down the front of his breastplate, and remembered the last moments before I had lost consciousness.
The commotion had not escaped the notice of the woman, and she too had circled back. Despite the panic and terror I was experiencing, I noted the look on her face. She was covered in blood, but she appeared unharmed – until I looked more closely at her face. It held great sadness, and something else. Hatred. Her metallic eyes flashed strangely against the deep bronze of her skin, creating an otherworldly menace in her demeanor. I recoiled and struggled harder. I realized one of their numbers was missing. I assumed the blood that covered her had been his, and I wondered what had happened to Ephreim and the rest of his lot.
The thought of Ephreim fueled my panic, and my legs kicked wildly.
“Larin, you must stop your struggles. Do not cause me to do you any harm, but I will do as I must as you are putting us all in danger,” Tristan shouted over the currents and commotion the flapping of all wings were causing – mine included as they moved wildly and unevenly, searching for balance and purchase.
“I’ll be happy to knock her out,” snarled the woman, and I frowned at her, not understanding her hostility towards me, but knowing there was something more than my current struggles that was causing her ire.
“Iris,” said Tristan, turning his head towards her. “Please.”
The woman called Iris shook her head in disgust before giving a great heave of her wings, propelling her body forward and slamming into my side as she passed and continued onwards without the others. The males briefly felt their grip in peril and grasped on more tightly. I yelped in pain.
“Larin! Please!” shouted the red-head again. “Stop, please! We aren’t going to hurt you!”
I closed my eyes tightly and let out a small cry, forcing myself with all my might to cease my struggles. My wings took longer to get under control – wanting to do something more. Satisfied I was subdued, at least for the moment, Tristan also heaved his wings and took his place at the front. We all continued onwards for some time, heading towards the mountains in the distance. To our left, the ocean came into view, the serene periwinkle blinking in parts as the rays of sunshine that had succeeded in making their way through the clouds lit upon it. We travelled further, and I couldn’t help but look in wonder at the beauty of the mountains as they arose around us. We flew past several smaller ranges, some rising higher and higher into the horizon and disappearing under the cloud cover. Snow-capped peaks became more numerous as we travelled, and the terrain below became barren and rugged as we ascended further above sea level. We came over one ridge in particular, and I gasped at the sight below.
A beautiful, lush meadow lined the entirety of a large valley, seemingly oblivious to the barren mountains on either side. There were waterfalls here and there, gently rolling hillsides and dense forests, all contained within the valley. A soft mist-shrouded parts, giving everything an air of mysticism and magic. I became aware of movements below. Small figures – horses? My eye-sight was considerably sharper than before, but I squinted still, trying to make out the detail of the beauty below.
We came towards the rear of the valley, approaching the tallest peak. Its top was obscured by clouds, and as we continued to approach, I noticed a large balcony carved out of the white rock surrounding it. Lining it were huge, ancient looking statutes. Hooded beings with wings like ours, holding bowls in their hands that leapt with white flames. We came to rest in the middle of the landing, and I saw several other black-winged beings that appeared to have been waiting for our arrival. Several carried spears, and they walked cautiously forward as Tristan touched down in front of us.
“Alert the others,” he said, turning to a male at the front. He nodded, shooting me a curious glance and turned, walking down a cobblestone pathway that wound around the side of the hill and out of view. There were ruins here, too, vaguely reminding me of something of the ancient civilizations I’d read about in school textbooks. Pillars stood here and there where once they may have formed temples, and although they were broken and ancient, they still had an air of quiet dignity and beauty, covered in an ivy bearing delicate blooms.
Moss and gentle wildflowers poked out from everywhere the eye could see, and I was struck by the strange enchantment of everything surrounding me.
I didn’t have long to muse on my surroundings, as the red-haired one turned to me and suddenly smiled happily.
“We’re home!”
I blinked at him, not knowing what to say. Iris had landed ahead of us with Tristan and strode off down the path without further adieu, not waiting for instruction. Tristan stared after her, sighing.
“We lost Patrick,” he said sadly. “Her partner. Back where we found you. He stayed behind to allow us an opportunity to escape.”
So, that’s what it was, then. I understood Iris’ hostility now. It was my fault. I quelled my sympathy with a sudden burst of anger. I hadn’t asked for anyone to save me. I hadn’t asked for any of this.
“It was a brave sacrifice,” Tristan continued. “I hope you will not let it be in vain.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, confused. “What do I have to do with any of this?”
Tristan regarded me for a moment, then turned to the red-head. “Chase,” he said, “take her down. I will go ahead.” He leapt back into the air, taking off. I watched as he disappeared into the mist that seemed to surround this place.
�
�I’m Chase,” the red-head said unnecessarily, smiling at me warmly. “Come on.”
We began making our way down the path, several of the others following closely behind. Chase had a bounce to his step and lightness to his demeanor. He was clearly happy to be here, and I could understand why. It was enchanting. I could hear the trickle of water in the distance, and the sounds of birds as they chatted happily amongst themselves. The mist thinned and nearly disappeared the further downwards we strode, and I marvelled again at the magnificence of our surroundings. Chase appeared unphased, and he flicked his wings up once, adjusting them easily.
“What is this place?” I asked, looking around.
“We call it the Citadel,” Chase responded, turning back to me and smiling. “It’s where we live.”
“And who exactly are we?” I asked him, realizing I still had no idea what the answer was. Chase looked back thoughtfully, slowing his step.
“I think it’s best that the Council takes it from here and explains everything to you properly. Look over there,” he said, pointing towards an entrance carved into the mountainside. Long curtains of gray and white, the colors they all bore in their clothing, floated gently in the breeze, shrouding the inside of the entrance from view. On either side stood two of the large, winged statues, sentries guarding the secrets contained within.
“What is that place?” I asked, looking back at Chase as I felt him quickening his step. Here and there other winged men and women went about their business, most stopping short and staring in open curiosity as we made our way down the path.
“The Great Hall is through there,” Chase said. “It’s where the Council sits.”
“And who are the Council, precisely?” I asked, starting to feel frustrated. Every answer was causing me to have more questions, and I felt as though I was slipping further down the rabbit hole with every step I took.
“I think it’s best—”
“—that they explain, yeah yeah,” I said, sighing. Chase looked back at me once and winked, and I smiled reluctantly back in his direction. His good nature was refreshing, welcome in fact, in the face of all this chaos. It was good to know there those of us who were capable of such good humor.
We passed through the large mouth leading into the cavern, and I gasped, expecting the darkness of a cave. Instead, I was greeted by a blinding burst of sunlight. The cavern was cylindrical and as my eyes adjusted, various stone pathways wound their way upwards towards the top of the mountain, where the sun shone brightly through the opening there. The ceiling surrounding it was intricately carved, ancient and stunning in its beauty. Winged figures were in various states of flight, reaching forward toward the sun.
I gaped as I tried to take it all in, finding I couldn’t stop looking upwards. When I tore my eyes away, I noticed large pillars surrounding the hall in the center, where a crescent-shaped pedestal stood, holding seven thrones. The first four were on a lower part, with three elevated somewhat behind them. The thrones appeared as ancient as the place we were standing in and I wondered who made up this mysterious Council I was about to meet.
The seats were empty. I looked questioningly at Chase, and he reached back suddenly to take my hand. I absently gave it to him, still looking around the room and marvelling at the sight of the place. Here as well stood a few dozen winged beings, all turned in my direction. I felt suddenly self-conscious, wondering what made me so different from the rest.
“Come on,” Chase coaxed gently, leading me through the room. We walked down a hallway, passing doors that led into rooms of various purposes. Tables and chairs lined the room in one, what appeared to be living accommodations in the next. I stopped at the door of one room, gasping at the library contained inside. Ancient tomes lined the wall from floor to ceiling, with paths and archways leading to areas further beyond, places that presumably held more of these marvels. I was astonished at everything I saw, not knowing what to make of the situation. It seemed an entire city was here, hiding in the side of the mountain, seemingly for untold centuries. I wondered just how long. Chase gave my arm a gentle tug, and I reluctantly tore my eyes away. We walked for a few minutes longer before coming to the end of the torchlit hallway, where two guards stood at attention before an enormous oak door.
Chase nodded at the guards, and one of them moved forward, pushing the door open. He turned back and smiled at me in a reassuring way, and I took a deep breath, still not knowing what to expect.
Beyond the doorway stood a massive, ancient oak table. It was covered with maps, pegs in places and identifying markers in others. But the table did not surprise me. Leaning around it deep in conversation were four more winged creatures.
These ones were different. They were also robed in gray and white, although their armor was somewhat finer than the others beyond the door.
What stood out to me was the beauty of their startlingly white wings.
I gasped. They all looked up at once, standing slowly. Tristan stood beside them, having been discussing something with one in particular. The contrast of his black wings against the white of the four others surrounding him was in such stark contrast I was momentarily confused by what I was supposed to be seeing. One of the white-wings, a blond with hair so golden it seemed to radiate, spoke first.
“Larin,” he said, meeting my eyes and smiling warmly. “Welcome.”
I looked around at the others, their glances impassive until I came to rest on the tallest of all. His hair was nearly as black as my wings, as though such a thing were possible. Blacker. His eyes too were black, and other than his hair color, the most distinctive feature separating him from the others. I felt captivated under his gaze, before I realized I was staring at him, agog. I blinked, suddenly blushing and feeling ridiculous. Two others, both with fine hair though not as golden as the first, stared at me contemplatively, the blue of their eyes just as penetrating.
“Who are you?” I asked, quietly.
The black-haired one stepped towards me, crossing his arms and regarding me cautiously. Appraisingly. There was something so distinctly different about these beings. I knew I was looking at members of the so-called Council and felt insanely as though I should be kneeling before them. The urge was so strong for a moment I almost did, wavering where I stood. I’d been through so much though, I was past all airs and frivolities.
“I said, who are you? And what is all this? What’s happening to me?” I demanded suddenly.
The golden-blond looked around the table and smiled in what appeared to be amusement. I noted a shared amused expression by one, but not the other. This fair-haired one regarded me with a look that bordered on hostility. I blanched.
“I am Gabriel,” the golden-blond smiled. “Beside me,” he said, gesturing to fair-headed creatures, “are Uriel and Raphael.”
“And I,” said the one with the black hair, “am Michael.”
“We are the remaining archangels of the Divine Council.”
“Arch. . .” I stuttered, my mind suddenly feeling as though it had hit the dashboard in a serious car accident. “Arch-an. . .” Of course, it made perfect sense. I nearly laughed out loud at my sheer stupidity that I hadn’t concluded that the winged creatures were angels. Perhaps this was because the things I had witnessed defied everything I thought angels were supposed to be: white-winged creatures in white tunics with halos, playing the harp. Yet here they were, looking perfectly angelic. To date, I’d only witnessed black-winged murderers, people who swept in with swords and violence. People like me, human, with feathers that materialize out of their back like some sort of moth after a metamorphosis.
“Larin,” said Gabriel, “it is true. You will have so many questions. It is unusual for a vessel – for one like you,” he corrected, “to be brought before us upon your arrival. You will forgive us for our lack of the usual protocols. We try to acclimatize the newly awakened before they are burdened with information they are not ready to hear. But we found this to be an unusual situation.”
“Extenuatin
g circumstances,” said Chase from behind me. I completely forgot that he was there, and I glanced briefly over my shoulder. He smiled at me and saluted good-naturedly.
“That will be all, Chase,” said Gabriel, dismissing him. I looked back at Chase and found he was frowning. He clearly wanted to be involved and hear what was going on. He turned reluctantly but did not protest, leaving the room.
“Unusual?” I managed a short laugh. “THIS is unusual? Do tell!” I exclaimed, despite knowing I was in the presence of something beyond the supernatural I had witnessed in the last few days. “As if being dragged to Shang-Gri-La by a bunch of bird-men wasn’t enough strange for one day,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“She has a sense of humor, at least,” said Raphael to the others, smirking. Uriel beside him, however, scowled.
“You think this to be. . . a joke?” he asked, darkly. The others turned to him. Raphael sighed and put a hand on Uriel’s shoulder.
“Brother,” Raphael said, “relax. This is all very much for her to process.”
“Undoubtedly,” he nearly sneered, looking me over from head to toe. I found myself suddenly self-conscious, aware of the layer of filth that covered me from top to bottom. I flushed deeply, resenting the feeling of vulnerability. “Something tells me ‘processing’ isn’t her forte.”
My eyebrows shot up in humiliation. I flushed more deeply, frowning. I didn’t know why I had elicited such displeasure out of Uriel, but for some reason, it bothered me considerably. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I felt their approval was important.
I shook my head, telling myself there was likely some other magic at play here. Some need for me to want to be at the beck and call of these creatures. Perhaps that was how they instilled loyalty in creatures like Tristan and Chase. Perhaps this is how they maintained control of their city, hidden here in the mountains for who knew how long.
“Uriel,” snapped Gabriel angrily, watching the emotions play out on my face. “Do not be rude to our guest.”
Herald Page 8
