"Maybe we should kill him now. At least that would save us the trouble of having to care for him."
Isha opened her mouth to speak, but it was Laurence who spoke up, his voice filling the small space. "You listen to me. No matter your feelings, he is one of us. We do not kill our own kind no matter the reason you'd do well to remember that."
With the flip of her hair, Lydian exited the hunt with Daniel following close behind. Why anyone put up with her, Myleah couldn't understand, but she was happy Lydian left. Without the girl's distraction, they had a better shot at figuring out what motivated the man to clip his own wings.
Myleah looked around the room. Aria was tucked into a corner, her knees raised her chest and her arms hugging them. She hadn't moved since they'd arrived and Myleah was beginning to worry about the girl. Aria, a well mannered girl who'd always seen the best in everyone, was far too fragile to deal with what light before them. She dwelled in positivity, avoiding arguments, fights, or anything that she had a dark light on them. Though Myleah envied her that, she also couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl.
Jasper sat beside Aria, his arm draped around her shoulders while Tyrin and his parents were in the opposite corner, carrying on a conversation no one else was privy to. With everyone distracted, Myleah had her chance to peek around in the man's mind. She bridged the gap between her and the man, mentally forcing her way into his mind. Darkness dwelt there thick and tangible, pushing at her from all sides. She'd imagined he felt as boxed in as she did being locked within his own head as he healed, but she pushed that thought aside. Instead, she reached for recent memories, hoping she'd find the conversation between him and the man she never seen before. It didn't take long for her to find it, filed away in the darkest corner of his thoughts. She pulled at the memory and played through. But something wasn't right. While she could hear clearly everything the man had said, she couldn't hear a word from the other, even as his mouth moved. She replayed the scene over and over, trying to get a clue as to who the man was. After minutes of trying, she nearly given up until one word whispered to her, a word she'd never heard before.
"Brentley." She said the word out loud, testing on my tongue, trying to make sense of it.
"What did you just say?" She heard Isha asked her.
Myleah looked up at Isha. Isha stepped toward her, her eyes wide as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Myleah?"
"Brentley?" Myleah replied unsure.
Isha's eyes widened further at the mention of the word. "How do you know that name?"
Myleah pointed at the man on the table. "It was in his head."
Isha turned away from Myleah, reaching for her husband who took her hand in his. Their eyes locked on each other's for a while, and barrage of different expressions passing between them. They were speaking internally to each other, Myleah guessed, though she was curious to know what they were talking about.
"What else did you see?" Laurence asked.
"I saw him talking to a man but I couldn't hear anything the man was saying. All I could hear was Victor's voice." She pointed at the man on the table again. "That's his name. Victor. He was asking questions about how he could get back to heaven. I didn't hear the man's response the Victor seemed to think if you were to clip his wings and kill himself his spirit would return to heaven and he'd be restored."
"The poor man," Isha murmured. "If we were that easy to go back to heaven we have done so long ago. The only thing he managed to do was destroy his last connection to heaven."
Myleah didn't know what to think, but even she knew clipping his wings in an effort to return to heaven was a huge mistake. When the creator had a plan, there were no loopholes around that plan. The only thing they could do was wait for him to change his mind and accept them back home, something even she was beginning to lose faith in.
"What's the worst that can happen to them now?" Myleah asked.
Isha and Laurence looked at each other. After a moment, they each nodded at each other before returning their attention to Myleah. "Myleah, we need you to look inside his mind again. This time we need you to push past the surface of the memory." Laurence summoned Tyrin over. "Do you think you could boost her powers with yours? There is a veil clouding the memory, keeping her from finding out what happened to this man."
Tyrin's brows knitted together. "I don't see how that's possible. The only reason you and mom are able to..."
Isha interrupted him. "We need you to try. This is very important. We need to know if, in fact, that was Brentley in the memory."
Tyrin shrugged her shoulders but did as he was told. He rested his hand on Myleah's shoulder.
"Myleah, while you're inside that memory, I need you to push for a connection with the other man. You'll feel something like a wall pushing back at you will stand your ground. Tyrin will be there to help you. Draw upon Tyrin strength to push past that wall." Isha directed.
Myleah didn't know what to think. Never before had she been asked to measure powers with someone else. Hell, she wasn't even sure that was possible. Either way she had to try. She created the bridge again this time going directly to that memory. Instead of focusing on what Victor was saying, she tried to build a connection with the other man. The moment she did she was knocked back, the force of the hit nearly severing the connection. She concentrated on strengthening the connection, but each time she tried she was pushed back. Frustrated, she nearly given up, until she felt a warm presence pushing her forward. She reached for the presence basking in its warmth drawing strength from. Once she'd felt strong enough, she tried to connect with other man again. Strengthened by Tyrin's presence, she broke through the wall.
Finally able to hear the man speak, she listened intently as he directed Victor to clip his wings. But when she ventured forward to learn his identity, she turned toward her looking directly at her. She stepped back, shaking her head. She thought it impossible for memory to interact with her, but there he was staring at her, his gray eyes darkening maliciously.
Images begin to fill the space between them as if played on the clear screen. His intentions were clear. His plans were laid bare before her. She shuddered as picture after picture of angels display before her, their wings clipped.
"You're too late." He said before shoving Myleah from Victor's mind with a wave of the hand.
She stumbled back unable to catch her footing. Strong arms wrapping their way around her waist kept her from hitting the ground. A lump formed in her throat, and her palms began to sweat. The room began to spin and were not for Tyrin's arms around her waist, she'd have a hard time staying on her feet.
Eyes filled with tears as the images assaulted her, one after the other.
"What is it?" Isha asked.
When Myleah didn't answer immediately, she turned her attention to Tyrin. "Show me."
Tyrin stretched his arm toward his mother and she took his hand. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. With her connection to Tyrin still intact, Myleah could feel him reaching into her mind. It took a moment for Myleah to realize that Tyrell was bridging the gap between her and his mother, showing Isha everything she had seen.
Something Isha saw that her gasping for breath and pressing a hand against her chest. "All those people... We have to save them."
"I don't think will make it there in time," Tyrin responded.
"We have to try. Please."
Laurence reached for his life pulling her close. She turned into him laying her head on his shoulder. Sobs escaped her as she held onto her husband. Myleah felt confusion, anger, then determination spread within her before Tyrin released her and bolted for the door. In the moment it took Myleah to realize the emotions she'd felt were his, he was gone.
Twenty-eight
Tyrin had been gone for what seemed hours and Myleah was beginning to worry. They'd seen something in her visions, something she hadn't been able to piece together, and his parents refused to answer any questions she posed. She sat in the room in silence, no longer botherin
g to interact with the others. Aria and Jasper were still seated in the corner of the room, though Aria was no longer crying. Instead, she carried a stoic expression, staring at nothing in particular.
Jasper held onto her the entire time. He cared for the girl, something he'd never been shy about revealing. He was merciless in his attempts to gain her favor, ready to take on the world should anyone stand in his way. In the beginning, Myleah had thought her nothing more than a conquest, a right of passage. Being the daughter of Originals certainly had its perks. But seeing him with her then, the way the corners of his lips were tugged into a constant frown as she sat there unresponsive, Myleah knew it was more than that.
Laurence and Isha paced the room, their shoulders tensed. Each time the wind picked up, blowing through the cuts in the walls that served as windows, they'd glance toward the door. When no one came, they continued their pacing, passing glances between themselves as if in secret conversation.
For the first time, Myleah felt truly alone. Everyone around her had someone to comfort them, to make them feel better and ease their pain, but Myleah was left to her own misery. She claimed a seat in an empty corner away from them, closing her eyes. She'd always been a loner but that day, she wanted someone to embrace her. She wanted someone to tell her everything would be okay, even if it were a lie. Whatever Tyrin saw had them all on edge and she wondered what kinds of dangers lurked beyond the shield of their small village.
She felt a tug of emotion that made her heart heavy. Pressing a hand to her chest, she began to feel everything all at once. Confusion, sadness, despair, turmoil, then an all-consuming anger that made her want to snatch the head from the nearest target. She gasped as that anger exploded within her, pure and menacing until she could do nothing more than clench her fists into tight balls. She stood, turning to face the corner as her wings ripped from her back, spreading until they connected with the walls in the hut. She beat at the wall, watching as ice flowed through her fists freezing the wood. Her fists pounded against the wall, now solid with ice. Blood spattered everytime she hit it, but she felt no pain. All she felt was hatred and all she wanted to do was destroy.
"Myleah!"
Isha's voice pushed through the madness and she ceased her assault on the wall. She turned to face the woman as sorrow gripped her. Tears sprang to her eyes and she collapsed into Isha's arms.
"What is it, Leah," Isha asked, stroking her hair.
"I don't know."
She knew. She'd known the moment she'd looked into Isha's green eyes, eyes that mirrored Tyrin's, what she'd just felt. Tyrin's emotions continued to flow through her as she clung to his mother. Though she hated the connection, she was grateful to know he wasn't in any type of danger. She was even more grateful when she felt his presence coming toward her.
A touch of cool air hit her back as he swept into the hut. She was on her feet in an instant, making her way to him. "What happened?"
"I was too late," Tyrin said, falling to his knees.
She held him, trying to offer support and positive thoughts through the connection. When she did, an internal dam broke between them, forcing her back to the scene he'd just left.
She was in his body while he flew toward the scene, his mother's words replaying in his head. Myleah had been right. They'd seen something in the visions they hadn't wanted her to, and now, she knew what it was. Brentley had been dwelling among them for years since the fall, slipping in and out of the village undetected. He'd worried about being recognized by Isha and her family so he always appeared in the cover of night. A large hut at the edge of the village was set up for his meetings, meetings where he'd convinced the attendees he'd meant them no harm and bore good news.
His news was anything but. Posing as an Original it was easy for him to convince a large group of angels he knew the way back to heaven. Self sacrifice. The ultimate tool that guaranteed forgiveness no matter what wrong was done before. She'd heard rumors of this sort of clemency before, but to consider using it the way in which he proposed was idiotic. That didn't stop people from following him, their desperation to return home dulling their common sense
The plan. Lose your wings and fall on a sword. Victor had been the first to try, his anxiety separating him from the rest of the group The rest were scheduled to take the plunge the next day, while Isha and Laurence were distracted caring for Victor.
Tyrin had gotten within a mile of the location but he could already feel their suffering. It suffocated him as their cries assaulted his ears. Landing in the clearing, he saw what could only be described as a pile of severed wings lit on fire. Bloody trails led to the cliff just above the lake and he'd followed them, knowing what he'd find. He'd been too late, just as Brentley had stated. Looking below, he saw the broken bodies of the men and women who'd tossed themselves from the cliff, hoping it would be enough to kill them. It hadn't. Nothing short of a severed head or a heart ripped from the chest would end the life of a Fallen, something Tyrin's parents had neglected to tell the rest of them for this reason alone. They'd been afraid of giving the Fallen the ammunition to take their own lives, or take the lives of others. For all the good that did. Without that knowledge, the men and women below were suffering as their bodies fought to mend broken bones and ripped muscle.
Tyrin screamed his anger into the sky, his voice bouncing from the nearby trees. The fate awaiting them was worse than death and, for a moment, he'd been tempted to take their heads to save them the pain ahead. A whimper sounded behind him, pulling him from thoughts. He turned on his heel, his green eyes scanning his surroundings until they met with those of Damien's.
Tyrin ran toward the man, afraid he'd find him wingless as the others had been. He let out a sigh of relief when Damien's wings sprouted from his back.
Damien bowed his head, letting a curtain of raven hair shield the sight of his tears. His body shook as angry sobs erupted from his lips.
"I couldn't do it," he cried, his shoulders slumped. "I couldn't go through with it. Now they're going home and I'm stuck here."
Tyrin placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "They're not going home."
Wide eyes stared up at him. "Are they lost?"
Tyrin shook his head. "You hear their cries. They are still alive, just hurt badly."
"That's impossible," Damien said, pushing himself to his feet. "He told us we'd be weak enough to die without our wings. Our wings were the only things keeping us alive."
He balled his hand into a fist, brought it to his mouth and bit his knuckle hard enough to draw blood Blood lingered on his lips as he glanced around the clearing. Not seeing what he'd been looking for, he cursed. His voice crescendoed over the wails and cries of the Fallen at the bottom of the cliff until it was all Tyrin heard.
"Where is he?" He asked Tyrin. "He should be here, helping them cross over. He should be guiding them. He should be here!"
Damien turned his back to Tyrin, stalking away from him. His movement was frantic as he swept through the field in search for the one who'd given them false hope, only to leave them in their time of need. Tyrin knew there was no use. By now, Brentley was long gone, probably in search of more victims he could lead to mutilate themselves. As much as Tyrin wanted nothing more than to hunt the man down, there were far more pressing matters to deal with.
"He's gone," Tyrin said, hoping Damien had come to the same determination. If he was going to help the people at the bottom of the cliff, he needed Damien's help. He needed to take Damien to his parents to explain everything he knew. "He deceived you all. That's what he does."
"That's impossible. He is an Original."
The statement was only part true. Brentley was, infact, one of the original angels created but he'd followed Lucifer into hell. He'd used his gift of deception to send as many as he could to those fiery pits and wouldn't stop until he'd gathered every desperate soul he could.
Tyrin wanted to explain this to Damien. He wanted to put an end to his blind devotion to a person who'd sooner see him in flames.
But lack of time wouldn't permit him. Instead, he spread his wings and took to the air, leaving Damien behind. If the man were smart, he'd remain where he was.
Myleah pulled herself from the scene, her heart pounding. "How do we stop him?"
~*~
"So the madness is spreading?" Lydian asked, flipping her hair.
Myleah couldn't help but think it must've been nice to be so distant from such a tragedy. Had she developed that skill, she'd be easily able to overlook the trauma the other's were suffering and focus on the job at hand. But fate wouldn't be so kind to her.
She sat back against the wall behind her, listening as they made plans to care for the angels who'd clipped their wings. Isha and Laurence thought the angel's lack of wings made them dangerous, but Myleah had no way of knowing. Once they were able to relocate those angels into a hut they'd used for medical purposes, they seemed content to allow their bodies to heal, though they hadn't a clue what that meant going forward. None of them did.
More From
Imani L Hawkins
This story is part of a much larger story in the Fallen into Shadows Series. Though some of the books may be read as a standalone, the story is meant to be told through a series of books or episodes.
The next installment, Fallen: Fallen into Shadows Book Two will be available February 14, 2019.
Looking for something to read in the meantime? Myleah: A Fallen into Darkness Prelude is out on Amazon! You can find that book here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KK4D2BT
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