Syndrome of Mortality

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Syndrome of Mortality Page 31

by Eden R. Souther


  “Release it, Cleoph,” Fenriel demanded and summoned her Scythe.

  Cleoph slowly lowered her hands, and as she did, the field washed away and their defenses fell. Immediately the Angels of Sword and Shield descended upon them in battle once again.

  With their new allies and her new child, Fenriel was feeling confident that their victory was at hand. There was nothing she would not do to come out on top. For herself, for her new people, for the ones she loved and the ones she would soon come to love.

  Falling to Demias was not an option she was willing to accept. Surging into the fight, Fenriel took whatever came at her. One slash came for her wings. Twisting, she swooped down. With an agile spin, she was below them, arrow ready. The moment she loosed it, she turned. Another. Her scythe cleaved through the new challengers’ shields like butter. Another life was claimed in the name of Demias’ petty war. It wasn’t how she wanted to spend her first day on Earth—no— Eartha, but she had to.

  Another angel fell at her hands and its energy popped and fizzled and he hit the ground in a mist. “When will enough be enough? These are your children,” she screamed, knowing Demias could hear.

  She turned and looked though fray, searching for own little one. Once she sighted Michelle, Fenriel let out a relieved breath. The Exalt was holding her own, which was impressive in itself.

  Loviel, Ravin, and Michelle formed a triangle; each one could protect each other’s backs. They managed to repel attacker after attacker. No one could sneak up on any of the three. Loviel expertly redirected one angel’s momentum into Ravin’s range, then one into Michelle’s. As one, they grabbed the angels and swung them at the other’s. The two angelic forms collided, then collapsed on the ground.

  A sweet breath filled Loviel. For the first time in months, he felt as right as rain. Energy bubbled through his core. His wings pulled in close, as to not give the others an extra target. Already, the feathers were starting to grow back. The very tips looked as if they had been dipped into sunset paint. With his partner back at full health, Loviel was refreshed.

  He placed his hands on Ravin’s shoulders and used his sturdy frame as leverage. He pushed into the air, and slammed his heel into an oncoming attacker. He landed in front of Ravin. A warm smile appeared on his face.

  “I much more prefer this,” he said. “Working together.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “More fighting, less tearful romantic comedy moments. I swear you two are teenagers with your emotional roller coasters.”

  “Technically,” Loviel stated as he summoned a bubbling shield to protect them from a sword. “For an angel, I am considered a young adult.”

  Michelle rubbed her shoulder, which had a crude thick gash though it. Before her eyes, the skin started to mend itself. Her jaw fell open in surprise. Okay, the perks of being an Exalt were already amazing. How had she gone her whole life without this? Humans had it so hard. Michelle, to say the least, was very impressed with herself.

  A loud sound caught the trio off guard. Michelle twisted her head upwards and the largest angel she had ever seen floated above the battlefield. A quick read of Loviel’s mind told her that it was Bastion. Damn, he looked fierce, and more than a little pissed off.

  Loviel’s thoughts also told her that was not the norm. Bastion was a Neutral, he was a Defender. His sole purpose was to keep his people safe. The hulking angel never became angry. He was a peaceful giant who loved to garden and make pinwheels.

  “Enough.” Bastion’s voice boomed through the clearing and no one dared move or make a sound. “This has gone on long enough. I will not sacrifice my brothers so I may fight my brothers.” His gaze swept the clearing.

  Bastion held up his shield and it disappeared into bright lively lights that drifted away like flower petals. “Demias, your cause is not just. I believe what Cleoph says, for she is the Keeper of Balance. If it is skewed, we only battle to make it worse. My people will leave because if we are killing our people, we are not protecting them.”

  The red eyes of Demias became piercing. “You can’t,” he hissed. “Without your Shield, the traitors will kill us all.”

  There was a flash and Bastion was before Demias; his harsh storm gaze was electrifying. The thunder of his voice rumbled. “I will not subject our people to a meaningless war. I am done, Demias.” He turned and looked up at the sky.

  “No!” Demias called after Bastion and his people as they ascended. The frustration was clear on his pale white face. He ground his teeth and shot an accusing look at the other angels. There was sick desperation. He knew that he had lost. Without the aid of the Shield, his purpose had no backbone.

  “Demias,” Cleoph spoke, her silken words softer than a mother’s whisper rose through the silence. “Sheath your Sword with dignity. Your people are wounded and bleed life for your cause. Isn’t enough enough?”

  The Leader of the Swords didn’t speak. His jaw clenched and the fires in his gaze didn’t fade.

  Rain began to fall from the heavens, washing the battlefield and feeding the white flowers that swayed in the breeze. The only sound that filled the air was the breathing of the clouds as they cried their refreshing tears.

  At length, Demias put his sword back into its ornate holster. “This is not the end, Cleoph. You will soon see the Sentence of Death you have put on all of our heads.”

  Cleoph bowed her head to him, her motion full of respect. “If that what it takes to live in solidarity, to be in Balance.”

  A flash like lightning made the sky turn white. When the blinding light cleared, Demias and his soldiers had all gone. It was over. The battle had been won. The Angels of Balance lifted their staves and instruments and began to cheer.

  Fenriel placed her hand on Cleoph’s shoulder. “I hated you for so long for sealing me away.” She looked to the moon that shone through the rain clouds. “I thought you were betraying me, but I understand now. They killed my people, and they controlled me. You were doing all you could to keep me safe.”

  Cleoph pulled Fenriel into a tight embrace. “I pray now you can find the freedom you have always desired.”

  Michelle let out a breath and looked at her hands. So, this was it. This was who she was now. The rain tickled at her skin and a smile came to her face. Was this what it felt like? As the blood washed away, so did all traces of pain. No longer did she have to think about the imminent end of her life.

  Her beginning had started. What did the future hold for her now? How was she supposed to comprehend an eternity when she had rashly hoped she’d live ten years? What was in store for her now that she was a Dark Angel to be? Exalt was what it was called when you were an Angel-in-Training, right?

  There was much uncertainty running in her head, but immense relief shone through the doubt. Now, she’d be able to finish college. One day, she’d be able to get married and have a family. These were all new thoughts to her. Those were the dreams she had long locked away because she’d never thought she’d make it this far.

  She’d get to see her little sister get married, and spend endless days at the roller rink stealing Jo’s food. Tears mimicked the rain and rolled down her face. Crying had never felt so good. Never before had she’d felt so happy that all she could do was let the tears go.

  Where did she go from here? What became of her now? She didn’t know, but, looking at Ravin and Loviel, she knew she wouldn’t go through it alone. They had stood with her every step of the way. Sure, their good intentions had almost paved the road to Hell, but at least she knew they cared.

  Her heart finally felt free.

  Michelle walked up to Ravin and linked hands with him.

  “Now, I’m not saying that this has been a pretty shitty relationship thus far…” She winked. “All I’m saying is that there is definitely room for improvements.”

  “Well.” Ravin cupped her cheek with his free hand. “If you’re willing, we can spend as long as we need to getting it to a place you approve of.”

  Michelle nodded and grinn
ed. “Alright, but I have a whole list. Number one, more cheese fries and video games. Number two, we have to go to coffee shops and talk only about writing our manuscripts while we doodle hot dogs on napkins.” She nodded introspectively. “Three… Well I don’t know, I haven’t thought of ‘three’ yet.”

  “Three, you reserve the right to expand your list?” Ravin arched an eyebrow.

  “Three.” Michelle gave a nod. “We start making out and make the whole vicinity feel awkward.”

  “I can live with these terms.” Before she could respond, Ravin leaned forward and kissed his girlfriend deeply. For the first time in their relationship, he wasn’t scared of what too much passion could do to her. There was no danger of harming her anymore, not fatally anyway.

  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lifted her into his arms and held her close as their passions could match for once. It spilled over so strongly that even the Angels could feel it.

  He wasn’t sure who started it, but one by one, they began to applaud.

  Epilogue

  “Come on,” Ravin teased, “one more bite.” He gave his girlfriend a mischievous wink. “I told you that a whole cake was too much, but you insisted. So you gotta finish it.” With a flick of his tail, he stretched out his arms. Things had been considerably calmer now that Michelle wasn’t dying anymore. Though it had only been a few hours since she had been made into an immortal, he liked to think that it was setting the tone for the future of their relationship.

  She was so much more lively now that her bones weren’t dissolving. The pep had returned to her step; her recovery was accompanied by and all sorts of other clichés too numerous for him to think up. It was his Michelle, and now he had a shot at not screwing the whole thing up again.

  That was his ultimate goal. Not being a fuck-up.

  Michelle promptly tapped her index fingers together in a rude gesture, but she couldn’t stuff down any more cake. Her belly was just too full. “You’ll just have to go on without me.” Her tone was wistful.

  Ravin twirled his fork in his fingers. “I just don’t know if I possibly could.” He popped a few bites into his mouth, then slouched back in his chair. He felt like he was going to burst. “I can’t. No more. It looks like we’ll just have to save the rest for tomorrow, or maybe a late-night snack.” The demon rubbed his stomach.

  “Good plan,” she agreed and eyed the cake. “We will mount an attack in the late hours. They won’t expect it.” With that, she stabbed her fork in the center of the confection.

  Content, Ravin rose to his feet. “In the meantime, we should play cooking games so we know how to properly ambush our foes.”

  Michelle slumped into the table like a wounded animal. “I cannot move.” Her resolve was strong. “If I do, I will explode from the inside out.” A yawn escaped and she rested her head on the dusty wood. If not for the damage to the house or the scattering of flowers, Michelle could have forgotten this place had been a battlefield.

  She had fought in a real-life battle. That was pretty badass, she’d admit proudly. She was feeling pretty badass after everything that had happened. “Go on without me!”

  Ravin leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I will go on in your memory.” If this is what their eternity was going to be like, he was going to sign up for twelve of them. He would spend at least one of them just admiring the way she made rude gestures at him. It would be worth the price. “Just be sure not to intimidate the cake so much that it runs away.”

  “Ravin.” Zier’s voice cut through their flirting. It was eerily calm and even. He had barely shown his face in the few hours since Fenriel had been released. He had been taking every second to savor his time with the woman he had so desperately missed.

  “What’s up?” Ravin turned to look at the Fallen Angel. His appearance was as immaculate as ever. All the battle wounds had been healed

  Zier drew in a deep breath. “Fenriel wants to speak with you.” Though it wasn’t his usual level of somewhat-vague nonsense, the information flow was still pretty iffy on Ravin’s scale.

  “Why?” The demon arched an eyebrow.

  “Come with me,” Zier instructed. “She wants to speak with you. Alone.” There was no doubt that if he didn’t come willingly, Zier would force him to. The Fallen Angel was very good at that. He would have suspected that Zier didn’t understand the word ‘no’, but Lian wouldn’t have allowed someone like that close to her after everything she’d been through. Ravin suspected he was not keen on having to share any time with Fenriel at the moment.

  Without another question, Ravin stepped beside Zier.

  In a blink, the two teleported to the basement. It was marginally faster, but anything that meant he could get back to Michelle sooner was better. Then, Zier disappeared again, leaving Ravin alone with Fenriel. The woman sat, patiently waiting for him.

  “You wanted to speak with me?” Ravin lifted his eyes from the ground to meet the Dark Angel’s moonlit gaze. Though she wasn’t the fearsome avenging angel he’d expected, she was still completely terrifying. He’d seen her in action. But why she had wanted to talk to him alone, in private, without anyone else there, was beyond him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he anxiously awaited her response.

  Fenriel stood from the chair she had been resting on and approached him. “You remember nothing before a fixed point in time.” Her silver moon eyes looked deep into his. “It is time these memories were returned to you.”

  The demon gaped for a moment. “You have my memories?” he asked in a low tone. How it was possible, he didn’t know. It seemed too good to be true.

  “I do.” As she lifted her hand, a glowing white smoke began to swirl around her fingers. “I have held them safe since they were taken from you. I know you have many questions. I know it is hard to understand, but everything will be clear once you are reunited with them.”

  Ravin took a step back. “How do I know they won’t change me? I kind of like who I am.” His heart thudded in his chest. “What if I hate who I was?” For a long time, he’d wanted nothing more than to have his memories back. He would have killed to know who he had been. But then he found out he had some connection with a psycho Demon with apocalyptic goals, and now a Dark Angel had his old memories? Maybe it was better if he didn’t.

  Fenriel’s gaze was steadfast. “Ravin, who you are is engraved into your being. Everything you have done and seen since you lost this piece will not be erased. There are things you must know, promises you must keep. ‘No’ is not an answer I will accept. I have held these for far too long.”

  Anxiety flared through Ravin. “If I don’t have a choice…” he took in a deep breath. “If you promise that things won’t go completely wrong, then I’ll do it.” The last thing he wanted was to be someone new after things were now finally falling into place with Michelle.

  Fenriel placed her hand on Ravin’s forehead. At once, the wisps responded and filled their former owner. The Angel of Night let out a soft breath and whispered, “All will be as it should.”

  About The Author

  The Eden R. Souther duo, Brennan Stidham and Nicholas Torres, have been writing together since 2007. They've perfected a synchronistic style and have collaborated on many projects together.

  Eden R Souther is a dreamer. Their passion for storytelling transcends the stars above. The realm of fantasy is their haven. It is here that they find the truest form of magic in the world, bringing characters and places to life. Sharing their tales is their ultimate aspiration. They are excited to share the journey of wonderment with anyone willing to tag along.

  Angel Syndrome, released in 2016, was their first novel and Syndrome of Mortality is its sequel. Their second novel, Cruentus, was released in 2017. Their third novel, Soul Rain was released in early 2018.

  Find out more at edenrsouther.com

  Other Books by Eden R Souther

  Coming soon!

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