“Nicely done,” said Michael. “I must say that you surprised me.”
“Thanks,” replied Imorean.
“I think I may be able to make a swordsman out of you yet.”
Imorean’s grin widened, and Michael backed away. His smile dropped as Michael turned to leave, the wooden swords vanishing back into thin air.
“You have done well, but it seems that a majority of our hour is up and as you did black out, I do not want to push the envelope. We will try something different tomorrow, and Wednesday, we will be taking a flight around the area.”
“Wait. Aren’t you going to tell me how I did?”
Michael paused. “Not as well as I had hoped, but no better than I really expected. You were not born into this state of being, so getting in touch with your true nature will be harder and will take time. I am going to try something else with you tomorrow to see if that is more successful.”
Imorean’s heart sank and he watched in silence as Michael left the gym, the door closing loudly behind him. He sighed more heavily than he intended, and looked at his book bag. He should start on his homework. Geography, meteorology, orienteering and demon studies. They had received homework in every class. If he couldn’t please Michael, he could at least do well on his assignments.
Stuffy. It was hot and stuffy. Cramped. Imorean inhaled. He could smell dirt. He couldn’t see. The world sounded dark and oppressive, hanging over him like a great, breathing beast. Imorean moved to stretch his arms. He couldn’t move them much further than a few inches away from his body. He couldn’t raise them. His breath hitched. He kicked with his legs and heard his boots clunk on wood. He was trapped! Imorean kicked harder, feeling only the wood beneath his feet. He flailed with his arms. He couldn’t move. With a wail, Imorean thrashed his body back and forth. He was bound here like a trapped animal. Held forever in a world from which there was no escape.
Chapter 13
Chalkboards. Imorean had never liked them. He had always preferred whiteboards. Being left-handed though, he could never properly write on either one of them. He looked down at his papers. It was the second day of Haroel’s Demon Studies class, and one of the only ones Imorean found himself really enjoying. He glanced back up at the board to check the spelling of what he had just written. Quonach. It wasn’t a word. Imorean knew what it meant though. He had read the chapter on them the night before. He shuddered at the memory of the material.
“Nasty, nasty creatures, these,” said Haroel, tapping the board with a piece of chalk. “Thankfully, though, they’re rare. I would draw one for you, but I’m no artist. Now, Vortigern uses Quonachs on rare occasions. Normally, he uses them if he wants to make a particularly bloody kill. Something to make a statement. Quonachs are the absolute bane of an angel’s existence. They are completely blind, but their sense of smell is incredible. It is easily the most dangerous thing about them. They use their sense of smell to draw location. Their hearing too, is exceptional. Like snakes, they can unhinge their jaw and swallow things far larger than their own heads. All in all, not fun customers. Rumor has it that even Vortigern is slightly afraid of them.”
Colton raised his hand. “Why would he use them if he’s afraid of them too?”
“Because they are lethal.” Haroel perched on the corner of the desk. “They do their jobs almost too well. If you are ever faced with a Quonach and a normal demon, tackle the Quonach first. They’re too dangerous to ignore. Chances are, the average demon won’t want to come too close anyway.”
“How hard are they to kill?” asked Baxter.
“Easy. It’s a matter of getting near enough to kill them. If you look at the diagram in your textbooks, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Those long front legs and claws of theirs are their greatest weapon.”
“Have you ever fought a Quonach?” asked Mandy. Imorean thought he heard her voice shake.
“No. And for that I am incredibly grateful. They’re not seen much anymore and we are hoping that their kind may be dying out.”
“Do they have a non-corporeal form?” asked Colton.
“No. They are one of the few demons that cannot travel in the smoky, cloud form. Teleporting is also hard for them. They have less energy and magic to them than a normal demon, but that does not mean that they are to be underestimated. Any questions on them?”
“How big are they?” asked Ryan.
“On all fours, around four feet tall. Standing up, they tend to be around seven feet tall at the shoulder,” said Haroel.
Mandy spoke up again. “How likely is it that we are going to have to fight them?”
“Highly unlikely, but they are to be studied. You must be ready for anything that Vortigern may throw at you. That is the job of an elite squad, is it not?”
Imorean stared out of the window of Uriel’s small classroom. They had already been sitting in the classroom for nearly two hours and Imorean’s mind had begun to wander. Not succeeding yesterday in his training had disheartened him. Inwardly, he cringed at the memory of Michael’s words. They still stung. Why did it have to be him who had been chosen to be the Archangel hybrid? Why couldn’t it have been someone like Ryan? Imorean turned and darted a quick glance at Ryan. Tall, built and confident. He would have been the natural choice…
“Imorean?”
If it was possible, Imorean’s heart sunk even lower. Uriel was staring at him, a nasty expression on his face.
“Yes?”
“Are you planning on answering my question or simply looking out of the window?”
“Dangerous weather,” whispered Roxy, leaning over Imorean’s shoulder.
“Dangerous weather…?” parroted Imorean. Uriel smirked and across the room Ryan snickered.
“Well, at least you know the topic. My question was, what weather is most dangerous for flying? The answer to which, is, for us, freezing rain. Did you even do the reading assignment I gave?”
“I did–”
“I’ll be wanting a small report from you on the sections read last night and the ones you’ll read for homework today. On my desk, first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Uriel,” called Ryan from the back of the classroom. Imorean looked at his classmate.
“Yes, Ryan?”
“That’s just from Imorean, right?”
“Correct.”
Imorean spun back around, looking between Uriel and Ryan. “Wait, so you’re expecting extra work from just one student?”
“You were the only one not paying attention. Class dismissed.”
Mouth open, Imorean stared at Uriel in disbelief as the dark-eyed archangel exited the room.
“Cat and Mouse.”
Imorean looked up, deflating inwardly as he realized that it was Uriel who was crunching across the snow toward them. As if having to have Teambuilding outside in the freezing temperatures wasn’t enough. Nearby, Imorean watched Ryan nudge Baxter with a nasty smile. He ran a hand through his white hair. The Archangel would obviously be leading their Teambuilding session today. Why couldn’t they have Haroel again? He caught Toddy’s sympathetic glance and sighed heavily. He already knew who would be one of the ‘mice.’
Uriel stopped, surveying the squad. “This game, while juvenile, has its good points for angels learning to track, find and take down demons. The idea here is to hunt together as a team. Frayneson!”
“Sir?”
“You’ll play mouse today.”
“I would never have guessed.”
Imorean regretted his words as soon as Uriel’s dark wings opened, and the Archangel seemed to swell with aggression.
“Watch your tongue, brat. Ryan, Colton, gather your teams and track the mouse on my command. Have a plan, inform your teams and carry through. Do not break the boundaries of Felsenmeer’s main grounds.”
“And me?” asked Imorean, dreading Uriel’s answer.
“Run. It’s simple. From what I have heard, running away is something you are good at. On your mark.”
Imorean’s h
ands curled into fists and he locked his jaw. Why was Uriel like this? He glared at the Archangel, his so-called brother, with all his might, sheer frustration boiling in his blood.
“Are you nearly ready?” asked Uriel, turning to him. Imorean gave a stiff nod and locked eyes with Uriel for just a moment. There was a shift in Uriel’s dark, brown eyes and a split second later, Imorean realized what he was looking at. Not brown, but gray. Steely, cold gray. The blood surrounding his heart went cold.
Uriel grinned, his eyes flashing. “Then run.”
Imorean snapped his wings open and tore into the sky, upward as fast as he could. What he had seen had to be impossible, didn’t it? Vortigern couldn’t be here. Not at Felsenmeer. It had to have been a trick of the light. It just had to be. Vortigern couldn’t be this close to Michael without the Chief Archangel knowing. It just wasn’t possible. Imorean banked in the air, his wings slicing through clouds. As long as he was near Michael, Vortigern surely couldn’t be close by. He shook himself and darted a glance at his hands. They were trembling.
Tired was all Imorean felt as he descended into the cold gym. He had already been outside for an hour, his strength already sapped. He didn’t want to be cold for another hour, but deep down he was actually looking forward to the leadership training with Michael. It had to be better than playing Cat and Mouse anyway. He stepped inside the gym and immediately raised one eyebrow. Michael was sitting in the center of the gym on what looked mysteriously like a yoga mat.
“Um…?” asked Imorean, quietly crossing the floor and walking up to Michael. Even his soft footsteps on the hard wood had seemed too loud and he was glad to finally stop moving. He peered at his mentor for a moment. Michael’s hands were folded one atop the other at the center of his chest. His green eyes were closed and there was an odd expression on his face. He looked peaceful.
“Sit down,” said Michael, his voice slow and oddly placid.
Imorean looked at the floor, surprised to see that a second mat had appeared. He set his bag down and did as Michael had asked.
A silence lingered over them and Imorean looked around restlessly. This was not how he had imagined his second day of Leadership Evolution going. Michael twitched very slightly and Imorean broke the quiet.
“So?”
Michael finally opened his eyes. Imorean scrambled backwards off his mat. The Archangel’s eyes were blazing, full green. There was no iris, no white, no pupil. There was just a wall of solid green. Michael blinked once and the pure green receded like a rolling wave to where it would be naturally, the Archangel’s eyes returning to normal.
“My apologies. That has a tendency to happen. I should have given you some warning.”
“I hate it when you do that. What was that?”
“Let us call it a conference for simplicity’s sake.”
“Conference?”
“With my… executive board. Do not worry about them for now. I will tell you about them at a later date. We have a lot of work to do.”
“What happened with your eyes?”
“It happens when an Archangel reverts back to their natural condition. It is a state of being where we are more soul than body.”
“Can you teach me to do that?”
“When I think you are ready to do serious work on the astral plane, yes.”
“Okay. What are we doing today?”
“Although we will not be on the astral plane today, we will be doing some mental exercises. And I must warn you, they are always exhausting. Today, it is all about helping you dissolve into your mind and what you can do with it. Face me. This whole hour is going to drain you of energy.”
“That doesn’t bother me. This whole day has been pretty miserable, so hit me with it.”
One side of Michael’s mouth twitched up. “Very well. You are going to tap into your Archangel nature. Close your eyes.”
Imorean did as Michael asked. “I feel stupid.”
“That is not a concern. Recapture how you felt when Ryan insulted you.”
Imorean cracked one eye open. “Why?”
“Just do it, Imorean.”
Imorean closed his eye again. He sighed in irritation and thought back, playing Ryan’s words over and over again in his head. He flinched, feeling the hurt, the anger and the horror of their implications all over again. He was alone. He was orphaned. His family was gone. His squad believed he was getting preferential treatment because of their deaths. His heart quickened. The fear of what they all thought of him resurfaced. The fear of what Roxy thought. In his mind’s eye, he saw again how she looked at Ryan. Was he doomed to lose her too? White wings twitched. Anger, hurt, confusion, fear. They all suddenly seemed to blend together in an unmovable wave of terrifying white. In the back of his mind, he saw again the terrified eyes of his mother staring at him from behind a television screen. Imorean’s eyes flew open, but he was no longer in the gym. Somehow, he was on his feet, wings open. Every sense was heightened. He had been wrong. He was in the gym, but it was darker here. All the light was gone. He could hear the breathing of another creature nearby, he could both smell and taste the other. He could sense it. His very skin felt that it was burning.
Two tiny pinpricks of green light pierced the darkness and Imorean spun to face them. Four more, large waves of emerald lit the blackness. Imorean held steady. Something told him he shouldn’t speak, shouldn’t move. A vague thought came to the forefront of his mind.
‘Where?’
The reply came swiftly. ‘Home. Felsenmeer.’
‘Michael?’
‘Yes.’
‘What now?’
‘Explore.’
Imorean looked around. There was nothing special here. It was dark. He flared his wings and raised his eyebrows as he saw a pale flicker of white light surrounding them. Somewhere, a voice laughed softly. There was a third being here. Imorean looked around, desperately trying to extend his senses. Who? What? Where? He turned away from Michael’s green flares of light. A trail of dark gray pierced the darkness. Something shoved him hard in the chest. Imorean yelped. Too late, he opened his wings as the floor he was standing on shifted. His feet were swept out from under him and he fell.
With a heavy crash, Imorean collapsed backwards onto the gym floor. His eyes flew open. He didn’t remember when he had closed them. The lights were back on. Michael was still seated on the floor.
“What happened?” asked Imorean, rolling onto his side and sitting up. He ached.
Michael’s eyes opened. “You lost focus. You slipped out of an Archangelic state of being.”
“What?”
“We, you and I, made use of your emotions as a focal point to center your mind and to encourage you to slip into a more self-aware state.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It is hard to explain, but I will do my best. You are a new Archangel, so in order for you to slip into an Archangelic state, you need a strong focal point for your mind and your emotions, so that there is very little to distract you from your goal. This is why I asked for you to turn your attention to what happened here a few days ago. These emotions not only helped you slip into your true nature, but also helped you to remain there. When you lost focus is when you returned here. You will eventually have to learn how to reach and maintain the Archangel state while flying and fighting.”
“How can you possibly expect me to do that?”
“It takes a long time to master, so have a bit of faith.”
“Can we try again?”
“No. Once is enough for today. Eat and rest. We will fly as a unit tomorrow.”
“Outside?”
“Indeed.”
Imorean rose to his feet, surprised to find his legs shaking. Michael stood up as well. With a sigh, Imorean turned to his mentor.
“Am I always going to feel this bad afterwards?”
“No. It will get easier. Do some research on meditation. You may find that helps. It will certainly be of use when we begin to work on the astral pl
ane. As for tomorrow, you and I will communicate primarily through telepathy. I need to know that you are able to receive and send messages using only your mind.”
“Great,” said Imorean, shaking his head. He felt sick.
“Does Vortigern really cause you so much fear?”
“Huh?”
“Vortigern. His signature color is gray. That is what knocked you from your state of being.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he does.”
“I understand. We will address that soon. Dismissed.”
Chapter 14
A chilling wind battered Imorean, shaking him right down to his bones, but he took little notice of it. His eyes were riveted ahead. He had never thought of Baffin Island as being beautiful before. He had only ever known it was cold and got very little sunlight. Now though, he saw the true splendor of the isle. Mountain peaks glistened with freshly fallen snow and the world below was hidden from view by a blanket of clouds.
‘Thor Peak,’ called Michael’s voice from inside the confines of Imorean’s head.
White wings tightened against Imorean’s back as he turned around to face the rest of his squad. They too, were looking around in awe. The view from the top of Thor Peak was truly incredible. Imorean turned and looked down, trying to ignore the waves of vertigo that threatened to knock him off his feet. Through a tiny gap in the clouds, he saw only white. Thick ice covered the valley’s river far below. Imorean looked over his shoulder as his squad formed up behind him. For a moment, he stared at them like a deer in headlights, unsure what to do. He locked eyes with Michael, standing behind the squad, dual swords once again rising up over his shoulders.
‘Orders?’ asked Imorean, focusing as hard as he could on the single word.
The answer was simple and frustrating. ‘As I told you earlier, get home.’
Imorean took a breath and watched as Michael lifted off into the windy sky, then dropped down over the precipice and out of sight. They were alone now. Imorean gathered himself and shouted as loudly as he could, desperate to make himself heard over the wind.
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