Rain, Chronicles of the Third Realm Wars #0

by E. J. Wenstrom

  My chest churns with helpless anger.

  I usually love to walk the fields at night. If I were not so distraught, it would be a good night for it. The moon is full and proud, and a quiet breeze blows.

  Bastus hates when I wander around in the dark like this. He says I am vulnerable out here all alone. But vulnerable to what, I could not say. He speaks sometimes as if men are not so good after all, as if there is an evil out there waiting to lure us in.

  But this young world is perfect and lovely and peaceful, and there is no reason to fear. I often tell him so, and he purses his lips.

  I wonder what Calipher would say.

  A rustle of steps in the brush behind me takes me out of the thoughts—right on cue.

  “Bastus, let me be.” I say it reflexively, without thinking.

  “It is not Bastus.”

  The voice is soft like velvet. My heart lurches in my chest.

  I turn around.

  “Calipher!”

  I rush toward him, eager for his touch, but he flinches back and pushes his hands out: Stop.

  It’s like being hit in my gut. How can he ask me to stay away after yesterday?

  “Is that other angel still here?”

  The ting of his peaceful aura hums just under my skin. I want more.

  “No.”

  “Who was she? Why was she here?” My voice begins to quiver, so I choke back the rest of my questions. I do not want him to see how afraid I really am.

  “Theia sent her,” he replies. “She had a warning for me.”

  His wings slouch behind his shoulders. It has the effect of making him look like a candle, slowly melting away under a flame.

  “A warning?” Suddenly my throat feels dry and tight. “What kind of warning?”

  “It was about us,” he says. He looks away. “About yesterday. Nia, we can’t keep on like this.”

  “But….” His words seep into me, and they sting. “It was so wonderful. Did you not think so too?”

  “Yes.” The word comes out broken, as if it is a struggle for him. “Wonderful. But that is not what matters. It is Theia’s Will. The angel came to remind me to keep my distance from you and the other humans.”

  A completely new kind of anger bursts free in me. It is raw and feral and burns through my core. Heat flares over my face.

  “But what about you? She can’t just order you to stop feeling. You have a right to your own choice.”

  He shakes his head. “For you, for humans, free will is a right. For angels, it is nothing. I do not get free will. I have Theia’s Will. Today, Her Will is for me to keep away from you.

  “But,” I start, hardly knowing what I’ll say next, determined to argue this away, “if She is making you stay away from me, how are you here?”

  Calipher pauses, a puzzled frown flickering over his face.

  “I do not know. I had to explain to you. Abandoning you without doing so did not feel like an option. And here I am.”

  He takes half a step forward, slowly, as if testing himself. I start toward him as well, his aura building in me as I near, but then he draws back again.

  “I must leave,” he says. His words bear the weight of thick storm clouds about to burst open.

  He looks at me, and I can almost feel my heart shattering.

  “I will keep my distance from you, and I ask you to do the same, for both our sakes.”

  I grasp for words, but there are none.

  Of the three gods, Theia has always felt cold and distant to me, too removed from this realm She helped to create. But even so, I cannot imagine how She can do this.

  “I am sorry, Nia.”

  His voice reverberates inside me. I bite my lip and try to soak up the stillness of his aura while I can.

  He wraps his wings around himself, and in a blink, he has disappeared.

  Tears build in my eyes, but I force them to stay open and take in every bit of him that I can. Was there always a black feather among the brilliant silver?

  I shake myself and try to pull myself together. I am not losing anything, not really—it has hardly been a day. I have no right to the feelings raging through me.

  But, oh, how I crave his touch, that divine peace that blasts through him. It was like nothing else in this world, and losing it is too much to bear.

  I trudge back home, too empty to care about the fight with Mother anymore.

  CHAPTER 5

  I TRY TO go about my days. I tidy the house, I clean the dishes. I trade in the market. I prepare the meals. But Calipher is always at the forefront of my mind. The ball of warm peace he filled me with is gone, replaced with the angry burning coals that usually simmer within me. It is not enough.

  How could he just leave me?

  Not him. Theia did this, I remind myself.

  But the anger is crackling and simmering inside me anyway. It does not matter whose fault it is. What matters is that yesterday I had something beautiful, and it was snatched away from me.

  Calipher seems to go about his usual duties, lending counsel, visiting the ill, and otherwise guiding the village to remain in harmony with the gods.

  But ever since the other angel came to the village, people have been worse than normal. They keep their distance and lean to each other, whispering, when I pass. Even Taavi, who was such a good friend of my father’s before he died, has stopped making small talk with me when I come to trade.

  I am glad for it, I decide. I have no energy for the effort of meaningless chatter, preferring to simply do what I must and return home where I can let myself drown in Calipher’s absence, alone.

  A quick, light knock at the door interrupts my stupor.

  I rub my eyes dry and answer it.

  A diminutive creature with full cheeks and cornhusk-blonde ringlets is waiting for me.

  “Peri!”

  Peri is a sprite, sent to the village by Gloros, goddess of the passions. She came to us shortly after Calipher and Bastus.

  She is a lively thing, and her large eyes are always full of joy. Combined with her small stature, as a child I often forgot that she was not the same age as me. She spent endless time with me in the fields playing games, and caring for me, when my mother was too buried in grief to do it herself. When we played hide and seek, her greenish tint could make her impossible to find in the woods. Unlike angels’ full feathery wings, hers are thin like petals.

  Peri’s aura ignites and magnifies emotions. But she can also reduce it, and as a child she used this to protect me from my grief, allowing me to digest my father’s death in bites small enough for a child to take. Then over time she weaned me off it, fading out of my life.

  It would be good to see her, if her presence were not multiplying my sadness so that it felt like it would burst from my chest.

  She gives me an apologetic half-smile.

  “Bastus sent me. He was afraid you would not want to speak to him.”

  I still have not spoken to Bastus since our fight. I haven’t even seen him since then, I realize. Has he been avoiding me on purpose?

  “Oh.”

  Peri’s wings twitch. “May I?”

  “Of course.” I step aside and let her in. “What can I do for you? Or, for Bastus?”

  “I—he—we were just worried about you. The village….”

  “Yes, I know what they are saying.”

  They whisper, but they forget to keep their voices down. I hear when they observe that I do not look well, that I brought trouble upon this village, that perhaps I have been struck with my father’s illness for it. I hear when they question what I could be doing with those First Creature males so often, all on our own.

  “It’s been hard, long years for you.” Peri’s frown reaches her large eyes, reflecting back all my troubles.

  “I’ve gotten used to it.” I wander the kitchen, rearranging and setting things in place as an excuse to turn away.

  Peri reaches up and places her little hand on my arm. The magnification of my heartache is instant
. “That does not make it all right.”

  I shrug away from her and breathe in relief. “It is what it is.”

  “You should come out more in the town. If you were out more, the people would get past this,” she suggests. “You need distraction. Community.”

  “I do not mind being alone.” But I realize as I say it, this is less true now than it used to be.

  Peri smiles. “Even so. Why not try coming to morning prayer? Your father still has many old friends there.”

  I shrug and nod. Maybe.

  “Think about it.” Peri sighs. “Is there anything you wish to talk about?”

  “No.”

  She pauses, then turns toward the door.

  “Except….”

  She turns back, her wings perking up.

  “Could you do that thing you used to? After my father?”

  “Oh.” She slouches back down, biting her lip in apprehension. “You were a child then, and not ready for all that was put on you.”

  She sighs, weighing her decision. I slouch, try to show her the full weight of my depression.

  “That is not a way to fix things, Nia. You know that?”

  “Yes, yes, I know. I just need a break from it, is all.”

  She sighs again, and nods. “Just this once.”

  “Thank you,” I exclaim. I lean forward, and she flutters her wings to raise herself up to me.

  She presses her thumb into my forehead, and a satisfying hum rushes through me, blocking out my heartache like a shield.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, smiling at her.

  She nods, her eyes full of concern. “I’m around, Nia. So is Bastus. If you need anything, don’t just wither away here. Come to us.”

  And then she leaves.

  ****

  Peri’s idea of a prayer service sticks in my mind. It feels surprisingly appealing.

  But I cannot go to Peri’s prayer. Even thinking about it reminds me too much of my father, of better times for all of us before his Great Illness. To feel all that, in addition to my heartache, multiplied by Peri’s presence, it is too much to even think about.

  Bastus’ prayer is out, too, after our last fight. His feelings for me grew like a weed between us. For years we ignored them, but now he has put words to them. Now that he is gone, I realize he has been my dearest friend, and his absence has left a hole in my spirit. But I do not know how to be around him anymore.

  Usually the gods complement and balance each other, but now it is as if they are each taking a limb and pulling me in a different direction. Pulling me apart.

  These days, there is only one thing I am drawn toward. But Calipher asked me to stay away.

  I tell myself it will get better. But every day I only become more weary. I need to be in his presence again, even if only to soak him up from a distance.

  So, finally, I give in and go to one of Calipher’s morning prayers for Theia’s followers. Leading us in our worship of the gods is one of the First Creatures’ main duties here among us, along with counsel and helping us to live in harmony with the realm.

  My heart throbs in my ears the whole way there. They meet outside in the forest by Calipher’s home, no matter the weather.

  He sees me as I approach the group, and his usual calm, distant expression shifts. Is that sadness I see in his eyes? Anger? I cannot tell.

  This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. I almost walk away. But I can already feel the warmth of his aura, and it makes me whole again. So instead I walk right to him.

  His lips spread in a slow, guarded smile. “It seems Theia may be able to keep me away from you, but not even a god can keep you away from me.”

  “No,” I say. I look away, feeling guilty for approaching him at all. “It seems She can’t. I just wanted you to know, I’m coming to prayer. I need it, Calipher, or I wouldn’t be doing this. But I intend to respect your request. I’ll stay to the back.”

  He is close enough that his aura saturates me like I am floating a lake of it. Close enough that that I could reach out and touch him.

  “All are welcome to prayer. Always.” He forces the edges of his mouth up into a stiff smile.

  “Thank you.”

  I will myself to turn away and move to the back of the group, like I promised. Theia’s followers whisper and glare as I make my way through them, but I am getting used to it, and it does not bother me. It just feels so good to be near him again.

  I try to focus on the prayer service. But I was never here for Theia, and She is not what I need. My mind keeps drifting to the soft glow of his skin, the gentle waves of his hair, the way his lips felt on mine. Not even the waves of peace that flow off of him are enough to quench me. Not now. I sit still and quiet on the dewy ground and soak up as much as of him as I can.

  His eyes keep drifting to me as he addresses the crowd—the flicker of an intense stare, and then he moves on to the rest of them. Every time goosebumps rise over my arms.

  The service is over before I am ready. The others begin to shift and speak again, and I realize it is time to go. I close my eyes and take in one last moment, then turn and make myself leave, afraid that if I do not keep my promise well enough, I will not be allowed to keep coming.

  I start down the path home, but a rustle in the branches makes me look back. Calipher is emerging from the brush.

  “Wait,” he calls to me. I do. He steps out of the brush, but doesn’t come any closer. “You do not need to keep to the back when you come to prayer. Come as much as you like, sit where you like, and do not worry about me.”

  My feet move to close the space between us. I go slowly, afraid he will flee if I rush him. But he stays where he is and allows me to approach.

  “I miss you,” I whisper.

  “Nia….” his voice trails off to nothing. He shakes his head. He starts as if to lean toward me, then stumbles a step back.

  I step forward again and close the space between us. Then I rise up on my tiptoes, grab onto his robe to pull him down to me, and I kiss him.

  At first he is stiff with surprise, but then to my relief he kisses back. He kisses me with an anxious hunger, over and over again, deep and hard and fast. He lifts me up to him and I wrap my arms and legs around him. Pressed up against him like this, his aura is more powerful than ever. Tidal waves of deep contentment crash over me. It is like nothing I have ever experienced—more powerful, more real, more wonderful.

  I crave more of it.

  I slip his robe off his shoulders to see what he’ll do. He keeps kissing me, covering my face and neck. So I keep going, push the clothing away from his perfect marble skin. Then I start on my own robe.

  He drops me to my feet and pulls away.

  “We shouldn’t….” His protest is only a whisper, hot and restless.

  “I’m tired of doing what I should,” I say. “It has worn me out. Do you want to?”

  He digests my words.

  “Not here,” he says, nodding to the others leaving from prayer not far away through the trees. “Hold on tight.”

  Before I can realize what is happening, he has whisked me into his arms and we are soaring up toward the sky. I cling to him and look down, in awe at how small everything is below us. I can see the village, the forest, my home, and the field. The wind blasts all around us. It’s an amazing feeling.

  Our descent back to the earth is gentler. We land in a mountain over the forest. A waterfall bubbles near us, feeding into the river that rushes down the mountain’s side and past the town.

  He lays me down on the ground next to it, his arms staying in place around me, and leans forward until I am on the earth below him.

  His breaths are heaving. At first I think it is from carrying me here. But while his eyes are eager and tender, his face is grimaced, as if straining against something. Theia’s Will, I realize with a pang of understanding. He’s fighting against it to be here with me.

  I pull him in and kiss him, then untie my robe. The waterfall splatters over us in a mist,
tickling on my arms and raising goosebumps over my skin. He wraps his arms around me and lays me out on the grass again.

  He moves urgently. Anxiously. He kisses every inch of me with his cool, marble lips. When he moves inside me, it is like nothing I have ever experienced, an intensity of his aura I didn’t know was possible, like my very skin is alight with a deep happiness that should not even be possible. It intensifies every touch, every brush of skin, every press of lips. It is as if I am floating through the sky on a cloud of it.

  In a grand finale, Calipher gasps sharply into my shoulder, and his wings stretch out rigidly to their full span. With the sun shining over them, I am surrounded by glistening silver.

  After, we linger, sprawled over the grass, and bask in the afterglow of the moment. Calipher relaxes his wings back in halfway, so that they wrap around us like a canopy and shields us from the world.

  I sigh. There is nothing like this buzzing perfection in all the realms.

  But his breathing is still heavy, and getting worse.

  “Calipher.” I hate to break the moment’s perfection, but I need to know. “What is it doing to you, to be here with me? This was perfect. If I could stay here forever with you, I would. But how is it that you can be here?”

  “There is a force urging me away,” he says. “But I wanted it, I wanted you. I wanted you so badly. I have never wanted something for myself before. But you…you make me feel like I can do anything I choose.”

  He traces a finger idly over my waist.

  “When I saw you this morning, I could feel Her commanding me to push you away, but I could not do it. I just could not bear to do it, and so I did not.”

  I pull him in and kiss him. I am so full of wonderful feelings I am sure I will burst. But under them there is a twinge of nerves near my heart. I press a hand into his chest.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I do not believe you.”

  He only smiles in response.

  “Is Theia going to send that other angel back?”

  He traces a line from my temple, down the side of my face and my neck. “I don’t know,” he says, leaning forward to kiss my shoulder. “And I do not care. Do not worry about it, my Nia.”