Days blurred as I obsessed over producing the flower we needed from my staff. At sunset, I found myself under the dark sky, still consumed with thoughts of the vow ritual. The faster Ellie could heal her wings, the faster Mia could then put up the protective barrier we needed to keep everyone safe.

  My eyes glazed over as I listened to Raziel recite information I already knew from the notes he had provided me. I’d studied all the papers the four-winged angel gave me meticulously, and it was possibly the only assignment I ever crammed for. I knew all the abilities of the staff, how to tap into the “source”, and all the colored levels I was going to need to climb through. But, I continued to struggle to open the ability for him.

  I barely kept watch of him examining the ground next to the weakening flames of the fire to inspect for any signs of the magical flower I may have produced. He was talking and the overload of information boiled over with the rest of my thoughts until I finally cut him off.

  “What if I can’t do it in time? Isn’t there another angel, like Gibel, that Mia can ask?”

  The plan was that Mia needed one more angel to be fully into the next level. Raziel said she was on the cusp or what Ellie likened to the stripes on a karate belt.

  Once I completed the vow with Ellie, then she’d be able to make a vow with the reincarnation of Gabriel.

  “You shouldn’t underestimate Gibel’s strength,” he said, which only fed my insecurities rather than helped any anxiety I felt.

  “Green. Level five. I know,”

  “Almost everyone here chose to remove their wings. Also, Mia is comfortable with you two.”

  “I would pick anyone if it meant protecting everyone,” I scoffed.

  His handsome face dropped, but his voice kept a tone of optimism. “Imagine what Ellie will be able to do with two humans lending her strength. And then Paul would be added as well, so you could learn the knowledge of his abilities, too.”

  All Ellie needs is me, I thought as I let the toxic thoughts run through me. Stewing in the poisonous pool of my mindset; I could pull myself down and drown out his words. Uniting forces with Mia was a strategic advantage, but my doubts about Ellie preferring someone else. Someone more powerful. It gnawed at me.

  The petite, soon-to-be angel was excited. Every day we were working towards this and she was almost giddy at the idea of the large network we were going to build. It was a goal I had set for both of us. But the longer I struggled to keep up, the more I feared being left behind.

  I was the first. The one who was going to fix her wings. My venomous insecurities lurked in every shadow of my thoughts, threatening to undo the friendship I was attempting the build.

  “Let’s try again,” I prompted the four-winged prince.

  The area was hardly lit, but Raziel claimed that scheduling my teachings at night would help as the staff drew its benefits from the moon. But it didn’t seem to help that dark clouds were rolling in to confine its silvery rays. The angel assured me that even with the clouds, the staff could still channel the energy we needed.

  He lifted wordlessly and shared the staff with me. His hands curled around just above mine and I could hardly see anything of him as the silhouette of his wings took over his figure.

  I felt the heat kindle through the wooden shaft, but its magical embrace eluded me. The sensation pricked painfully at the edges of my fingers while the euphoria to the heat rippled up my arms. But to feel the true bliss of magic; there needed to be a release.

  He let go first, and I snapped, “I won’t know if I got it unless you keep your hands on it.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” he asked, a pained curiosity taking over his tone.

  “Because no matter how hard I try, it’s not enough,” I shouted into the shadows.

  “You can do it,” he insisted.

  I slapped my forehead under the blade into the wood. “Like, I unlocked the light for you, so why can’t I do this?”

  He put his hand on my head. The intensity that bled from his presence sent the usual chill down my spine, but my venomous shield even held strong against his touch. “Perhaps I’ve over-explained,” he surmised.

  I kept my head nestled into my staff, defeated. “I thought I knew what I was doing…”

  “It’s hard for me too,” he admitted. “I’m trying my best to explain, but we don’t do magic the same way humans do. I’ve never actually experienced this. Teaching a human. So, I forget it’s not just knowledge, but feelings for you.”

  “Why does there have to be so much to this,” I whined.

  “Focus,” I could hear his usual beaming smile on his lips as he spoke. “Okay, so you remember the fire I talked about when you opened the light? Imagine the earth this time. The flower; it comes from being present.” He shifted uneasily, glancing around as if searching for words. His confidence seemed to waiver. “Is that something you can feel?”

  “Is that something you can feel?” I asked him back with a sarcastic laugh.

  “Yes?” He spoke with a curl of questioning. “It feels like a tree.” To my paused confusion, he prompted me to straighten up and placed his hands back onto the staff. “So just stand still and feel yourself breathe. Your top half moves like leaves in a breeze. Every breath is proof you’re here in the now. Your core stands unwavering to any distractions to be present as you root yourself at the moment.” Raziel gave it a moment before saying, “Anything?”

  “I am a tree,” I murmured, knocking my head into the Guard again. “Chillin’ as a prisoner to the dirt,” I chanted sarcastically. It was a joke, but truly inside, all I could feel was the forest on fire. I was a tree. Set ablaze and unable to run until I was nothing but ash.

  The angel tugged at my arm and eventually I let go. We shifted away from the meager light and every breath of nature rang alarms through my bones. His words didn’t leave me with any sense of magic, just paranoia.

  He was swinging my arms, trying to provoke me into moving, but my body held rigidly against his playful movements. I didn’t want to do this, and I stepped back away from him.

  He let me go freely, asking, “Are you just nervous or are you really afraid?”

  Constantly trying to hide how I felt was only more stressing. “I don’t want to dance. I want my staff back.”

  “It’s just us,” he said. “You’re safe.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I muttered while my? mind screamed the opposite. We were screwed and it was going to be my fault if I couldn’t do this.

  “Then you’re going to miss the fun.” I watched as he began to dance, his silhouette ridiculously waved. Eventually, I couldn’t hold back a smile and laughed.

  The fire lit his hand, inviting me back into his shadow. I hesitated, but as I reached out he pulled me. His comical movements moved to a gentle sway. We circled slowly and allowed myself to release my fears to just enjoy the moment.

  I closed my eyes, letting him guide me as the cool breeze caressed through my hair, sweeping away all my grievances. My feet stepped to the rhythm of the rustling leaves as the trees called to join them in their dance.

  Entranced by the hum of the wind, I broke from Raziel’s tempo and stumbled. “Sorry. It’s really dark,” I excused.

  “Maybe you would see better if you didn’t wear sunglasses at night?” he spoke with concern.

  “Shh,” I hushed and tapped my large dark lens. “People can’t know who I am under my hero identity.”

  His voice hesitated with confusion, but I knew he was trying to play along. “But I’m the only one here, and I’m not a criminal, so I think you can trust me.”

  Something in me shifted that made me immediately drop his hands. Normally, no one tried. Once I started going off on superhero references, people didn’t know they would just shut down. Tune me out. It was my only conversational piece to make friends, but now I was going to have to break into other topics. There was something inside me that melted to at least someone attempting to match the fixations I put out.

  “You don’t have to,” he continued, to my silent shock. “... just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  My heart skipped a beat, conflicted about how I felt. I’d always been like a moth gravitating to his flame, knowing full well the physical danger it posed. But in that moment, I was seeing him in a new light; one that beckoned me to give security.

  “No, you’re right,” I said, slipping off my shades and hanging them into the neck of my shirt. The clouds granted more light from the moon, and it was enough to see his face cringe as I looked up. Shielding my face, I fumbled for my sunglasses.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not understanding why I apologized.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “No, keep them off,” he said, realizing I saw his reaction.

  I’d never say it out loud, but I was still upset about how messed up my face was. It seemed like the scarring around the sockets of my eyes would never return to the same color as the rest of my skin. It was a reminder every time I glimpsed at my reflection that I was nowhere close to his level.

  But maybe that was the irony. Because it wasn’t my fault, yet even with his own marks to prove that to me, I continued to treat him like a wise, mastered teacher.

  We were both wounded, both flawed, and there was comfort in that. I just didn’t want to realize that. In my fantasy, he was a wise teacher. Not the person who fucked up making the scars I bore of his handprints.

  “It’s just my face,” I said, coolly.

  He kept his eyes on me, but I couldn’t look up to meet his gaze. “You have a lot on you. I can see it now. I’m a coward for not talking to you more personally, but maybe it’ll help to clear your mind so we can focus on magic.”

  “Well, that’s much appreciated if I really wanted to talk about anything,” I said. My muscles tensed as I fought to keep the bitterness from spilling out.

  It’s not that I didn’t want to talk. I had no one to talk to. Not in that way. Not when I was trying to hold the appearance of being an adult in front of all these beings far more powerful and knowledgeable than I’d ever be as a human.

  “And that doesn’t make you a coward,” I continued in a whisper.

  “Maybe not that, but I still am one,” he said, chuckling to himself. “I’m afraid. Afraid of what happens if I lose, or even if I become the next king. I’m not confident in my plans anymore in the state I’m in. Missing that piece of my soul and having to heal all the time makes me…tired.”

  “See? My problems aren’t even comparable,” I stated and went back to my staff. “I just don’t want to be a tree or stuck in a barrier. I’m sick of feeling trapped all the time. Next time, I’ll fight with everything I’ve got.”

  I looked out over the dark field, imagining myself taking down an army. As the moon peeked out again from the clouds, I watched the breeze sway the unruly grass. I was here, ready to stand my ground. My calloused and sore hand gripped against the cold, smooth wood. The freedom magic could grant me felt so close and I was going to take it.

  Raziel’s steps followed behind me and his hand reached out just above mine on the staff. “You won’t be alone,” he said. “I beli-”

  I turned to his abrupt pause, and a harsh gasp broke from my chest. Raziel’s body, heavy and weighed down by his wings, suddenly collapsed to the ground. I reached out for him too late and a hard smack hit the ground.

  I rushed to kneel at his side, but he didn’t stir from my frantic shaking. Panic fumbled through my mind before I sprinted back to Ellie’s. It wasn’t far, but my legs propelled me forward with each step echoing the relentless hammering in my chest. By the time I burst through the door breathless, I could barely string the words together. “Raziel... fell?… I don’t know...”

  She was definitely confused, but she recognized the distress in my voice and followed me quickly. As we approached the spot, I jumped the moment a voice stopped us both.

  “Wait,” Zeekiel’s voice halted us in the dark. Only after hearing Zeekiel did I notice the shadow standing over Raziel and my staff, still forked in the ground. “Ellie, go get a jar,” he instructed.

  “What happened?” she said, a question we both shared.

  The dark figure shifted and Zeekiel’s glowing violet eyes were back as he pointed down. “Once that flower pops out, bodies are going down,” he said. “I can’t tell you if it’s still in the air.”

  Ellie’s worry seemed to cease once I gushed and kneeled at the flower on the ground, unconsidered by Zeekiel hovering above me and Raziel’s limp body. “I did it! Man, it’s gorgeous.”

  “Congrats,” she laughed. “I’ll get a jar, then.”

  “This is amazing. Can I take it now, or should I wait for the jar?” I asked.

  Zeekiel didn’t answer my question or congratulate me. “I told you not to leave your staff,” was all he said in a gruff voice.

  “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t thinking. I was trying to go get help.”

  “You could have gotten it stolen,” he stated.

  “Lucky me, you’re always around.” My voice carried a hint of bitterness for ruining the moment for me.

  “You can tone down the gratitude,” he said just as sarcastically.

  “Did I do something to you?”

  He didn’t answer, and I couldn’t tell if he was being annoying or overprotective. Either way, there was an ache in his words. I couldn’t even look at him.

  Once Ellie returned after the awkward silence, I carefully pulled up the flower, only briefly admiring its soft white petals. It was larger with a wooden stem than I imagined and felt apologetic, having to confine its beauty to the jar. Making sure the lid was tight, I handed it back to Ellie.

  “Are you okay?” she said, but she wasn’t talking to me.

  Zeekiel was still lingering around us. The moonlight filtered through the clouds, casting a glow on the ground. A cool breeze rustled his dark hair, carrying the earthy scent of the surrounding woods. “Yeah,” he said, though his annoyance still seeped into his voice. “I’ll drop him back off at Meddy’s. Unless you all think you can pick him up.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Zeekiel picked up the four-winged angel and threw the mass of wings over his shoulder.

  Ellie pushed aside the feathers obscuring the demon’s face so he could see. “There, that’s better.” Her gentle voice eased the tension that fell between Zeekiel and me before she arrived. As Zeekiel carried Raziel away, Ellie led me in an opposite direction toward the lake.

  She glanced uncertainly at the glass in her hand before saying, “I guess this means we’re ready.”

  “I’m ready,” I said, taking her other hand. “But if you’re not, we don’t have to.”

  “Tonight, then,” she said. “I’ll ask Mia to get the drink ready.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?”

  Her grip on my hand tightened as she nodded firmly, saying, “I want to do this. If you keep asking, I’ll lose my confidence.”

  With both of us in agreement, we embarked into the forest, following the lake to Paul’s home, where Mia stayed. It felt like another community, separated by its serene, rustic charm.

  The area was distinct, a stark contrast to the bustling makeshift village. Here, there were no bikes cluttering the streets or towering poles designed for the birds. Instead, the community exuded a tranquil and very human simplicity, with cottages nestled amidst the greenery, their community campfires curling smoke and embers into the crisp air.

  Everyone gave at least one curious glance as we walked by to knock on the door. It was a moment before Paul opened the door and invited us in. A savory aroma made my stomach rumble. I hadn’t eaten yet before I went out to practice with Raziel.

  Once inside, Paul greeted us kindly. We explained why we were there and Paul translated for Mia that she had concern that we should wait for Raziel, and eventually, she had Paul agreeing.

  Ellie didn’t agree, feeling ready for all the four-winged angel’s training, and suddenly everyone looked towards me for the decision.

  “The faster we do this, the faster we get up the barrier,” I debated. “We’ve all practiced for this.” Since seeing the flower, I was holding on more optimistically.

  “I’ll make it,” Paul interjected and took the jar from Ellie. “Do it here, at least. I can observe over things.” He translated the same to Mia, and it seemed settled.

  Before he could start the tea, he asked for help with some dishes. “We’ll eat first,” he said. Paul moved towards the stove, handling the dishes with practiced ease. He grabbed the pot, and we headed outside where others began gathering around the large fire pit in front of his house, pulling their chairs closer as Ellie mentioned she had already eaten.

  “That’s fine.” He handed out the bowls to distribute amongst themselves and handed me back one that was full. “It’s not from the farms,” he said.

  “You guys don’t eat the food from over there?” I said and immediately shoved the spoon into the creamy red stew. My mouth was already watering from the spiced smell and matched its smoky taste. A variety of textured vegetables formed most of the stew, but the beef overjoyed me the moment I tasted it.

  “Everyone here is sick. We save that kind of food for those who need it,” he said.

  “Man, if I knew this was here, I would have come over sooner,” I said.

  Paul’s expression grew wary as he cautioned, “Best not to come here too often. Any moment, one of them could succumb to their sickness. They can’t escape this area, but they will attack.”

  “Nah, they don’t bother me.”

  He looked confused. “You’re not a descendant?”

  “Um, I don’t think so?” I said, struggling to swallow fast enough not to reply with my mouth full.

  Paul mused that bit of information was interesting, and while I worked to swallow down my food, Ellie asked why.

  “I always assumed the reincarnations were attracted to celestial descendants,” he explained, glancing at me with a hesitant expression. “Or at least that’s what my husband told me. He’s the one who knew how to find Mia when he noticed Gabriel would keep showing up in the same family.”

  “But what would happen if the bloodline runs out?” I questioned.

  Paul shrugged. “Acacia said if we didn’t find them that way, then we’d search the area and then move back to The Ring to see if the reincarnation was among the dragons. He was certain it was based on family, then region, and then dragon bloodlines.”

  “A dragon could be one?” I asked.

  Ellie answered, “Almost all the dragons are humanized now, so their souls go through the source just like humans.”

  “It would still be considered celestial blood,” Paul added. “The consumed ones are attracted to us to spread the sickness, but when a human smells like one of Mother’s children, it makes them violent.”

  I recalled back to Ellie mentioning that Mia smelt bad to Zeekiel and concluded, “So… only consumed ones or demons can identify a descendant?”

  “It’s not something I can sense, but demons can smell it,” he admitted.

  I had no more questions. I enjoyed the blissful glory of achieving and felt immersed in the good food as the surrounding strangers engaged me in conversation.

  I felt as if I were locked away not only from the outside world, but from the people in this one. I learned from some of the sick ones that shared my language that the sickness took their angelic perception, reducing them into seeing the world in a grainy black and white.

  I stuffed myself full, before Ellie and I helped to clean up so Paul could focus on making the tea and it was more simple than the days it took trying to grow it. He boiled the water Mia gave him and poured into the jar infusing with the whole flower. There was no straining while he poured some of the water back out into a tea cup after several minutes.

  He handed it to me, cautious not to spill any as he reminded me to take off the necklace before I could take it from him. Once everything was set, I sipped the liquid; its flavor and aroma were distinctly floral, but a bitter aftertaste lingered on my tongue. Only a couple of swallows in, and I was already too drowsy to recall who slipped the cup out of my hand.

  As I lowered back into the sofa, sleep devoured me until I saw Ellie’s dimpled cheeks smiling as she handed me my staff.

  I followed her, and her essence bloomed into the surrounding space. It was as I imagined she would have wanted her house to be, engrossed in exotic and mystical flowers of her own creation. I could hear the water trickling from the glossy fountain and take in the unique, sweet smell of the air.

  In my lucid state, I fulfilled all my nonsensical daydreams. Ellie’s laughter rang out, vibrant and full of life, as she playfully dodged and parried my attacks. Her eyes sparkled, and her movements were graceful, almost mesmerizing, as she teased me with witty remarks. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” she challenged.

  A warm smile lit her face that made the flowers burst to life around us. The sweet scent of their blooms filled the imaginary air, grounding me even as we danced through our whimsical fantasies.

  I will see you all Wednesday 4/30. Maybe I'll do a picture of Raziel, but I know I won't get it as handsome as I want you to imagine him. T.T