by BJ Sheldon
“How long do you have?” I finally asked.
Dorian paused and closed his eyes, pondering his answer. He turned his head and opened his eyes.
“Any time now,” he replied quietly.
I nodded and looked away, trying to keep my emotions at bay.
“Thank you,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“For what?”
“For showing me who I really was. For showing me it’s okay to live…and love.” I looked at him, tears beginning to stream down my face.
Dorian grasped me by the back of my neck and pulled me toward him. He kissed me hard, knowing it would be the last time. I grasped his face with my hands and kissed him back.
Then, he was gone.
* * * *
I waited until long after nightfall before I flew home. The evening was warm, the air ruffling the feathers on the underside of my wings. The cache of weapons strapped to my back were somewhat heavy and slowed me down, but only a bit. The sound of them clanging together inside the duffel was somewhat soothing and provided the traveling music I needed to distract me as I cut through the night sky.
My thoughts wandered, and I smiled. As tragic as the past week had been, I knew that if given the chance, Sean wouldn’t have changed a thing. He’d put down his video game controller, his comic books, and his movies and actually had his own adventure full of bad guys, weapons, and the end of the world. It was a shame that mankind would never know of his bravery, but his legacy, albeit unknown to others, would live on within me forever. The surviving Hybrids of Shamsiel would remember him, too, as the mortal who sacrificed himself to save his fellow humans.
I would miss Sean. He’d kept me sane and been my only company for years. He’d been the best friend I’d ever had, and I was better for it. But I would need to learn how to cope without him going forward.
I could hear the crickets scattered below me throughout the hills. Their chirps had hastened with the warmth in the air. I smiled at the sound. It connected me once more to the feel of the earth, calming me as I flew.
The crickets’ call centered me.
My thoughts turned to Dorian and Lillith. Lillith hadn’t liked me much, but I knew it was only because she had tried to save her brother’s feelings. Yet, beneath that gruff exterior, I knew she respected me a bit as well as Sean. It couldn’t have been easy for her growing up as a Hybrid, wandering the world for a hundred and twenty years and knowing her destiny involved finding the Protector. Having to share the only family she ever had with me must have been rough, but I had no doubt she knew how much her brother loved her.
Back at the campsite, Dorian had vanished from my arms, just as my mother had over three hundred years prior. After he faded away, I finally allowed myself to grieve for Sean, Dorian, Lillith, and even my mother. The tears flowed like water from a faucet, sobs shaking my entire body from heartache. I was more alone than I ever had been before.
But as night fell, I managed to pull myself together. I folded up the blanket and went to stuff it inside the canvas bag with the weapons Dorian had left me as I prepared to fly home. Inside the duffel, I discovered a folded piece of paper with my name scribbled on it.
My hands trembled as I carefully pulled it out and unfolded it.
Skyy,
I wanted to clear something up before I go. I never liked you.
But I was wrong. You are the one. And you’re okay in my book.
Don’t screw it up.
Lil
I read the note again and then once more. My smile broadened with each sentence. It had been Lillith’s way of apologizing. I tucked the note back into the bag and zipped it up.
Dorian had been right. His sister wasn’t so bad.
A gust of wind snapped me back to reality. The summer air brushed under my wings, guiding me home.
I could see my trailer in the distance. The moonlight bounced off the metal roof of my studio, casting a welcome glow. As I neared my property, I suddenly felt very alone.
Before, I was just a girl with wings, living in seclusion. Now, I knew I was a Watcher, an immortal. And I would exist forever.
Forever was a long time to be alone.
But somewhere, I knew my friends were watching out for me. In some small way, that thought gave me solace.
I landed hard on the ground outside my trailer. My gaze wandered to my studio door. Behind it, I used to spend hours painting and sculpting whatever came to me in my visions. But the last vision I’d had was about the angel skeletons. I wondered if I’d ever have them again and secretly hoped I wouldn’t.
I took a deep breath, taking in the scents around me. It smelled like rain and a mixture of dirt and wildflowers. The wind picked up, so I turned and made my way toward the trailer to drop off the duffel full of swords, knives, and other sharp objects.
It was dark inside, but it didn’t matter. I was still able to make my way around.
Dumping the bag on my bed, I headed back out toward my studio. As I neared the shed, raindrops began to fall, but I managed to make it inside before the skies opened up.
My fingers found the light switch. The light bulbs flickered and popped, adding to the noise of the rain landing on my tin roof. I scanned the room, my eyes taking in my surroundings as if I was seeing it all for the first time.
The skeleton painting still stood, leaning against the back wall of the studio. I found myself standing in front it, inspecting every stroke and line. The word fallen was now clearly visible to me throughout the canvas. I guess spending time with Hybrids had finally given me the ability to read the ancient language of the angels.
After all, as it turned out, I was one.
The books Sean had checked out for me from the library were still sitting where he’d left them. I wondered when they were due. My fingers traced the title of the top book as I pondered how to get them back to the library.
Sean might have been gone, but I didn’t want his memory mired due to a few overdue books.
A sudden loud knock on my door sent a shiver through my spine.
My heart seemed to stop.
Who knew I was there?
Whomever it was knocked again. I reached for my sword hanging from my hip and calmly tiptoed to the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
My hand grasped the doorknob, slowly turning it. I held my breath, trying to prepare myself for whatever was standing on the other side.
I flung open the door and wielded my sword in front of me, ready to fight if need be.
“I’m unarmed,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “You have all of my weapons.”
My jaw dropped.
My heart raced.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled quietly, barely able to get the words out.
Dorian smiled and stepped forward into the light and out of the rain. As he turned slightly to shut the door behind him, I was stunned to see a set of black wings protruding from his back. They were nearly identical to mine and appeared to be just as functional. The water on his feathers beaded together, and slid to the floor, a puddle forming below his feet.
His eyes were mischievous upon seeing my reaction to his new accessories. He placed his hands playfully on my hips and pulled me close.
Was he real? Had I gone mad? My mind swirled with questions.
My hands touched his face in disbelief, and he nuzzled his cheeks into them, instantly warming at my touch.
“I don’t understand,” I said, stammering, my pulse racing. “You were gone.”
He slid forward and pulled me closer. I found myself wrapping my arms around the back of his neck in an embrace I hoped would never end.
“How?” I whispered.
“I’ve been promoted.”
Acknowledgements
I'd like to thank Darrin Pagnac Ph.D. with the South Dakota School of Mines for patiently answering my questions. You are credit to the Department of Geology and Geological Engineering.
And an enormous thank-you goes out to my personal ass
istant, Amber. No one can type and lick envelopes quite like you.
About the Author
BJ Sheldon lives in the Black Hills of South Dakota with her best friend and husband, Steven, an Army veteran. They have 3 daughters, 3 cats, and a dog – all of whom are trying to take over the world. She grew up in Iowa and spent many years in sunny Arizona before finally settling down in the hills that she loves. She has a B.S. degree in Project Management from the University of Phoenix and has a PhD in life. She began reading at age 4, and by the 4th grade had already read most of the literary classics. Her hobbies include cuticle care, fighting off zombies, and traveling through space and time with a mad man in a blue box.
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