Unbidden, her thoughts wandered to who she could have loved and had a family with but the thought stopped instantly as she stared at Showl.
“I still don’t see how we named each other,” she admitted quietly.
“Let me help you remember.”
Ange closed her eyes, his yellow gaze still haunting her behind her eyelids. Her breath rushed out as he dived into her mind like radiant sunlight, diving deep before latching hold and pulling forth a memory so old it dusted with dark edges as it played in her mind.
Running, she was running through a cold dark night.
The city buildings loomed threateningly over her, her legs trembled as she ran, running out of breath quickly as she sobbed. Behind her was the dim light that lapped out of the windows of the orphanage, the dank small building that held all her misery. The children had been teasing her again, stealing her food and throwing trash at her while the cruel fat woman snarled at her like she was a deadly omen.
She ran in no particular straight path, it was winter and it was cold. Her tears hardened on her cheeks, she could hardly see as she tumbled between buildings. She finally collapsed in a small empty square, a dry fountain at its center and rimmed by small homes.
She picked herself up and trudged forward, shivering, her small hands rubbing her lank arms for warmth. No moons hung in the sky and the only light was a lone lamppost at the edge of the small stone tiled clearing. She huddled in the shadows of the fountain, where it was colder, just like the hole that gapped in her heart.
She didn’t know how long she had lasted there, sobbing in despair, her crying echoing faintly through the air. She jerked shocked, recoiling as a hand gently touched her back, a hand as large as her small head.
“Why are you crying, little one?”
She gazed up through blurry eyes into a pair of shining yellow eyes, they reminded her of the gold coins she had seen the fat woman pocket as she answered the gentle male voice.
“They…” she hiccupped painfully, “took my food again and called me names and threw hard things at my head, it hurt. That fat angry lady only stared, she said I’m no good. That I’ll never be adopted…that I’m not wanted.”
She froze as the large hands picked her up off the floor, she was so tiny, and she was only five years old wearing tattered dull clothes.
He placed her on the edge of the fountain after brushing away the snowdrift, his cloak fell around her as he sat beside her and she could still feel his arm around her as he kept her close.
The cloak was soft and warm, more than anything she had ever felt in her life. It wrapped around her, bringing a powerful sense of security and tranquility.
She looked up at the man’s face as his hood fell back, his hair was tousled and whiter than the snow that blanketed the roofs, streets, and objects in the world. He as the most beautiful person she had ever seen, she stared in wonderment at the kind man.
He pulled something out from underneath his cloak and pressed it gently into her hands.
She gazed down at the red rip fruit, she recognized it as the fruit and other foods the fat woman never shared with the children but taunted them with. It was a magron.
She stared up at the man confused, yet begging for permission.
He pushed her hands gently up towards her face. “Eat it,” he said quietly, his breath billowing out in a soft mist that smelled like the cold snow.
She stared at him unsure for a moment, her stomach clenching painfully before she snapped at the fruit, tore away the soft skin and the juicy flesh filled her mouth.
He chuckled at her abrasive reaction.
She paused for a moment, relishing the sweet and sour hints of the fruit in her mouth as she chewed and swallow. She had never eaten anything as remotely good in her life, never had she been shown any kindness, it was foreign to her…but awfully nice. She decided that the magron would officially be her favorite food.
Once she had devoured the large fruit she licked her sticky fingers, savoring every last bit of the fruit. When she was done she stared up unabashed at the kind man, the words came out slowly, words the fat woman had taught them to say but always felt wrong when she said them to her.
“Thank you.” And for once the words felt right.
He nodded once, his hand brushed her cheeks, removing the remnants of the tears that had stained her skin. She pouted but didn’t complain as he cleaned her face.
“You should not stay here in the cold little one, you could become sick.”
She frowned grimly. “But that orphanage is so horrible, I rather freeze,” she growled quietly.
“Never say that,” he rebuked gently but sternly. “Your life is precious, you only get to live it once, do no waste it. The bad things will pass so long as you are hopeful and keep walking forward.”
She frowned at his words, staring into his strange eyes that looked old and sad, they didn’t fit his young face.
“Why do you look different?” she asked.
“Because I am different,” he replied simply, unashamed.
“Do you hate being different?” she asked in a hush, the question personal.
He frowned and stared at her carefully, his reply was slow and steady. “Why should I hate being different? It is part of who I am and I will never be ashamed because of it, it is what makes me unique. I cannot change that fact even if others may not appreciate it, but that is fine. So long as I am happy with my differences, it doesn’t matter what others think.”
She stared puzzled by his words, but somehow she understood them, they made sense and brought her peace and strength as she savored the words.
She nodded in acceptance.
She had never bothered to remember a name before, but she didn’t want to forget this man, the one that had first shown her kindness, the one that had given her resolve.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He frowned deeply at her words. “I don’t have one.”
She frowned, knowing the feeling, the sense when one lacked identity.
“Me neither,” she admitted. She looked away for a moment then back at him, her eyes fixed on his snowy hair and yellow eyes. She remembered a picture book with animals, a dirty torn book but she membered a bird in it. A snow owl.
She mashed the two words together but it didn’t sound quite right, but she had no other idea.
“You’re Showl,” she declared in a soprano voice.
“Showl?” he echoed surprised at the strange name.
She nodded very seriously. “You kind of look like a snow owl. So, s-n-o-w-l, Showl!”
He chuckled. “Don’t you mean, Snowl?”
She shook her head stubbornly. “No. Showl,” she stated stubbornly repeating it barely able to pronounce it with an ‘h,’ though she hardly knew the difference.
He smiled amused by her heated reply before falling silent and gazing up at the sky for a long moment.
She looked up with him, wondering what he saw in the white dots of the black sky.
He finally looked back down at her and nodded in acceptance.
“Very well, Showl it is.”
She smiled widely, pleased. She shuffled out of his cloak and grasp and landed on the floor, looking at him curiously.
“Could I stay with you, could you adopt me?” she asked hopefully.
He frowned sadly. “I’m sorry but I cannot, where I live is even colder than here and very dangerous…” he trailed off, his eyes veiled and lonesome.
She frowned, she didn’t like the cold so she nodded.
She quickly skirted away and waved. “Bye, Showl!”
He smiled after her. “Be strong little one, remember, be proud that you are different and it will bring you happiness one day.”
She stopped for a moment and nodded in promise to his words. She turned away and quickly ran back to the orphanage, a new determination burning inside her making her hopeful.
She would be proud of what made her different even if others scorned her for it,
she would stand tall, and one day, she would have a family that accepted and loved her as she was. Someday…till then she would stand proud and strong.
Ange opened her eyes, realizing tears had swelled in her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten, that she had forgotten why Showl’s name had sounded so familiar when he had told it to her back in his cave. She couldn’t fathom that she had forgotten him and the will he had given her, the perseverance that had shaped her entire person since that day.
She stared at him grateful, her heart swelling in her chest with emotion.
“It’s fitting,” she agreed. “If not creepy.”
“How so?”
“I am named after one of your last life’s daughters,” she stated amused, quickly wiping her tears away before they could spill. “Don’t you find that creepy in the least?” she asked expecting him to agree.
He gave her an oblivious crooked smile. “A bit,” he replied and it was a lie.
Through their bond Ange could feel he did not believe so at all. To him they were two very different people, and that made their names completely different and unrelated as well. In his eyes, Ange was forever unique and special, if not an obstinate and nuisance of a woman.
Ange had to restrain a laugh at his last thought.
“Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have met you?” she asked, willing to admit the fact.
Showl smiled and a wave of warmth filled their minds and connection, her sincere words brought him overpowering relief from his burden of guilt and a great sense of joy.
“I believe I am the lucky one to have found you.”
She grinned widely at the revelation, basking in his opinion as their relationship deepened to a new and personal level with an intimacy they had never shared before.
Chapter 23: Dancing in Shadows
Music floated through the air as they entered the large mansion. Ange and Showl were followed by Daren who leaned heavily against Vera. Ange had been unable to explain how she and Showl had changed from armor to party attire again despite going through the notions of changing in one of Daren’s bathrooms and then coming out with no armor to carry around after a few minutes...
Daren and Vera were already suspicious as to Showl’s nature but Ange had assured them it was simply better not to ask and accept the inexplicable anomalies.
In her heart she desired to tell them the truth more than anything, but she knew it would provide them no solace for the life she would have to live away from them or the danger of simply knowing could put them in if they knew too much.
Showl on the other hand assured her it was fine if she told them a little so long as none of the information was too revealing.
So she hesitantly told them that she might never see them again after tonight. Daren had been mortified by her words and insisted that she could now stay with him, he had a home and business and could provide her a long and comfortable life.
She was touched by his offer but told him it was simply not possible, fate had given her a different destiny, one that could cost them their lives if she stayed in touch. They had been stricken and confused by her words, insisting that she explain and how they could help. She felt guilt for worrying them but told them it was best if they simply stayed out of it.
Grudgingly they stopped asking but Vera had quickly asked if it was her new family that she had been accompanying that had enemies and why they were attending such a party.
Ange after confiding in Showl told them that their enemies were attending the party and they could not allow them to obtain the artifact Mr. Lockharch had acquired. So Ange and her friends intended to steal it first before the reception was over and slip away.
Vera had smiled stating that Ange was still a thief no matter what fancy garbs she wore, the education she attained, or the company she kept. She had then offered to help steal the artifact for them but Ange had immediately refused her, remembering the wards the others had mentioned.
Daren then insisted he would attend the party, much to Ange’s and Vera’s protests. But he was stubborn and insisted he would spend as much time as possible with Ange before she disappeared on him again.
Guilty, Ange had been unable to fight back his demand.
Now Ange hesitantly slipped on her ring as they stayed at the entrance of the estate and Vera took Daren to a seat nearby. At least no one was by the entrance, except the man outside that had let them in.
“Ileana,” Ange spoke hesitantly through the bond that suddenly connected them all together faintly. She was careful to restrain her emotions and try to be respectful to their human leader.
A dim acknowledgement returned to her as she felt the powerful and ancient girl connect to her. Ange was shocked by the overwhelming mental presence that resembled that of a dragon’s as Ileana spoke in return and Ange idly wondered why Amaris had not seemed so alien when they had spoken through the rings before.
“You’re just in time. But why are you speaking to me through a bond you know you are not meant to use unless there is an emergency till you’ve earned the right to wear it indefinitely?” she asked calmly.
Ange grimaced at the pressure Ileana exerted and replied boldly. “I have a favor to ask.”
Surprise filled the link as she waited for Ange to continue.
Ange sent an image of Daren, as she glanced at him in the chair, weak and sickly, his skin a horrible yellow tone. “Could you please help him?”
“This is your acquaintance, I take? You’ve reached an understanding?”
“He’s a friend,” Ange corrected a bit impatiently. “And yes, I’ve forgiven him and found out the truth. Please help him,” she begged, loathing to do so but she felt responsible for Daren’s health, he was her brother in all but blood and she had to help him.
Ileana analyzed her feeling for a silent moment and Ange realized she had allowed the girl into her thoughts more than she had realized. But it didn’t matter now, she painfully waited for her to reply.
“Very well,” Ileana replied. “Wait there.”
Ange stared down at the ring shocked for a moment that Ileana had agreed to help as they both disconnected from the link.
“This wasn’t a good idea,” Vera snarled. “You should have stayed home,” she hissed at Daren, her voice unusually motherly.
Daren shook his head stubbornly. “No, I will spend time with Ange one last time even if it kills me,” he insisted.
Ange groaned in despair. “Since when have you’ve been so pigheaded?”
“Since I thought you were dead,” he retorted.
Ange frowned, unable to reply. She sighed relieved as Ileana and Grace walked from the grand room and into the foyer.
“I trust you have not revealed much?” Ileana asked pointedly as she walked forward.
“No,” Ange promised trying not to flinch under her mental presence. “Are the Adherent here yet?”
“Not yet,” Ileana replied gravely. “For tonight, do not remove the ring,” she ordered.
Ange nodded once, nervousness starting to build in her, a feeling she was still not accustomed to.
Ileana approached Daren, who stared at her with piercing green eyes, meeting her gaze quizzically despite her intimidating demeanor and that of Grace.
“I am Ileana and this is Grace,” she introduced.
“Daren Steele,” he replied gruffly and Ange realized he was suspicious of them, even cold.
Grace stepped forward and smiled gently, her eyes scrutinizing him carefully. “You do not appear well enough to attend a party,” she observed with a friendly tone.
Daren gave her a grim smile. “If this will be the last time I’ll ever spend with Ange then my health is not what’s most important. I won’t let things end as they did last time,” he stated meeting Ange’s eyes.
She frowned at him displeased.
“I see,” Grace replied with understanding. “Then let me see how I can help you.”
He stared up at her surprised. “You know medicine?”<
br />
“A great deal,” she replied with a tender smile.
Daren frowned, seeming skeptical as did Vera next to him.
Ange watched as Grace pulled out a round metallic disk with a complex and intricate surface and recognized her Key simply in a different shape. She pressed the metal to Daren’s head and the gem glowed.
“What’s she doing?” Ange asked Ileana perplexed.
“We must keep up appearances, the Key isn’t doing anything but it’s allowing Grace to give him energy inconspicuously. She’s revitalize his body, his cells, organs, everything. Watch.”
Ange watched astounded as color returned to Daren’s skin and slowly he closed his eyes as his flesh seem to expand under his skin again. Within a few minutes his face no longer looked drawn and tired, his hands returned to normal from a bony stage and his clothes no longer sagged over him as if they were too large.
He opened his eyes as Grace removed her Key, his breath coming out strong and Ange could swear his heart sounded more vital even in her ears.
“What did you do?” Vera asked astonished as Daren sat up straight and inspected his hands and touched his face.
Grace smiled as she put away her Key. “Cellular revitalization, simply an energy surge and protein base that provides a large supplement of nutrients to the body. It’s quite complicated,” she explained simply, putting Vera off.
Ange smiled as Daren stood up, a bit shaky as he smiled shocked.
“Thank you,” he praised.
Grace smiled sweetly. “Anything for a friend of Angeline, but do promise me you’ll look after your health more vigorously, yes?”
Daren looked up at her nodded in promise. “Is it normal that I feel so hungry and thirsty?” he asked concerned.
She nodded. “Your body will require nutrients and substance, but do not overeat these next few days while your body adjusts.”
He nodded in understanding, grateful and his eyes full of awe.
“Wait, why isn’t he reacting badly to the foreign energy?” Ange asked confused, knowing well that Grace must have used a considerable amount.
“Every being has a body filled with vital energy, including the energy that is stored in the brain at varying degrees. The only difference between us,” Ileana indicated, “is that our brains are wired, adapted to use that extra energy in extraordinary ways while most creatures are not.”
Sky Warriors: Poleuthan's Thief (Sky Warriors Saga Book 1) Page 40