Fallen to Grace

by A. D. Herrick

  Gabriel lifted one brow. “She-demon?”

  Azrael nodded as a new wave of dizziness blurred her vision. “Nethara.”

  He growled at the name and leapt from his chair. “That slithering snake still lives?”

  Azrael trembled. The memory sent icy chills down her spine. “Gabriel, I’m not ready to speak of it. Please.” Her body tensed and ached. Azrael held back the tears with a quiver of her lip.

  Gabriel relaxed, but she’d never seen true terror behind his blue eyes. It overpowered any love and faith that had carried her through loss and agony, and she allowed her gaze to fall from his, unable to face this new emotion.

  She tensed as he eased his hand over her shoulder, and then down one wing. Her feathers being as sensitive as they were fluttered at the touch. “Forgive me,” he whispered, drawing closer. “I understand why she came to you now. She knows I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant I had to endure seeing her again.”

  Azrael shot him a glance with surprise. “Endure? Is it so difficult to see someone you love?”

  His smile was more a grimace as he eased onto the bed. “It is. I do it every day.”

  And there it was. Azrael knew he loved her, just as she’d always feared. “What does it mean,” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, “to love someone like me?”

  He pulled her close and pressed his lips against her forehead. The moist warmth of his kiss made her eyelids flutter closed and she sucked in a breath. “It means the only thing I’m good for is failure. Loving you will only put you in more danger.”

  Hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around his neck, pulling his face to hers until his lips hovered, breath hot and full of anticipation and fear. She didn’t like the taste, and when she pressed her lips to his, a sweeter scent enveloped her tongue. He allowed himself to love her then, in that small moment. It tasted like hope.

  IN the night, Azrael stared at the ceiling of the tent as she twirled the fur-lined sheets around her fingers. Gabriel was asleep in his usual sentinel chair, ever protecting over her through the night.

  The tent’s material was thin, and she could see the moon glittering in the star-dotted sky. As the tent heaved, the orb that was the moon’s light fluttered and danced. If she squinted, she could imagine it was the Queen’s pearl necklace, dangling on a thread from the heavens. Maybe she was there, watching over her.

  Azrael smiled as Gabriel’s soft, sleeping breaths mixed with the sounds of the forest.

  “Little angel, little angel, where is the precious little angel?” Azrael’s skin crawled as a slithering voice called out for her in the darkness. Frozen in fear, she scarcely breathed. Gabriel’s body stiffened. If this is a demon come to kill us in the night, then surely the forest will protect us. Her thoughts held little comfort as an evil and cold presence surrounded her bed.

  Azrael gasped when a cold claw scraped across her arm. A fine red line followed in its trail. A startling screech sounded as Gabriel slammed the arch of his wing into the demon’s side. A golden glow filled the tent as Gabriel unsheathed his sword.

  “Run!” he shouted.

  His words speared into Azrael with sharp reality. She spread her wings, seizing the chance to escape. She hurled herself out of the tent, sped with the force of her own fear.

  Once outside, Azrael spun back to the tent with her heart in her throat. Two angels who’d been standing guard were now slumped and unresponsive as pools of glittering blood gathered at their feet.

  Azrael strained to look past the tent’s dark opening. All was quiet as she stared anxiously into the void, far darker than night could ever be. Fear urged her to run away, but concern for Gabriel rooted her to the ground.

  “Gabriel!” she shouted. Woken from the panicked cry, angelic warriors sprang from their tents.

  Eyes fixed on the nothingness, Azrael’s thoughts raced through a million things that could be transpiring inside that tent. Why hasn’t he come out? Does he need my help?

  She clenched her fists as the ringing of unnatural silence vibrated in her ears and a growing hoard of angels fell in line behind her.

  I don’t have time to be afraid!

  Azrael didn’t know if she was even capable of accessing the Light within her, or if she could call upon Alexandria’s invisible aid. But whichever force heeded her desperate need, Azrael’s plea was answered. Light shone through the Darkness as she seized the hidden powers within herself. Demon wails broke the silence of the night and the angels readied their weapons. She took a step forward holding her palms toward the tent. She sucked in the metallic air of darkness with slow, deliberate breaths. The Light grew, her own vision becoming pained under the strain.

  The flaps of the tent bent and tore. Azrael leaned and desperately looked for any sign of life. Yet, inside, the tent offered only more of the thick void. Azrael willed her Light to pierce it. Like bolts of lightning, she pummeled against the sludge. Her efforts bore fruit, and she breathed out a hot, steamed breath as the Darkness broke like a shattered mirror, falling piece by piece.

  Like she’d woken an ant’s nest, teeming clumps of demons escaped from the broken void. The angels launched for them, sounding their war cries as they speared and thrusted golden swords and lances. Dark blood spattered against white wings in the moonlit forest.

  There was no time to aid them. Gabriel needed her help now. She kept towards the tent, pushing her Light onto it with renewed fervor.

  In the void, smaller creatures twittered and crawled. They fled into the remaining darkness, scurrying from the scope of her sight. Their chitters were followed by an angered girl’s cry. A golden, spiral triangle flashed in the darkness and then suddenly vanished.

  Azrael’s power grew as rage flooded her body, her sight becoming hazed in a fiery red. “Is that you, Hyanthia? Have you come to kill me?” Azrael shouted. “You think that I can be easily disposed of in the night? Do you think I haven’t learned from the first time? You and your pitiful creatures!” Light flared from her eyes and hands, and tufts of flames began to lick at the corners of the tent.

  Manic laughter sounded within the void. “I don’t deserve to be called Mita any longer? Sweet, little angel.” Hyanthia stepped out from the Darkness.

  Tiny scaled creatures trailed around her ankles and crawled up her shoulders. Long, black talons spread from her feet, her legs warped into scaled extensions. A tail whipped and scraped the ground behind her. Thick scales curled over her shoulders and fitted plates wrapped around her middle. The only thing that remained of the old Mita was the wild, white stare of a Hallowed.

  Azrael screamed. Not with her voice, but with her heart. Against all caution, the gates that held back the Light opened wide, and Azrael pummeled Hyanthia with all her strength.

  The forest lit up as if the sun had risen. Male voices cried out in horror, and Azrael was lifted off the ground by the heat and force of her true magic. She commanded the Light and the Dark, and both had found their target. She spread her arms and wings and let all of her hatred and lost love hurl down at Hyanthia’s dark form.

  The demons at Hyanthia’s feet spewed out Darkness and shadow, but Hyanthia laughed at Azrael’s onslaught. She stood there...and laughed.

  “Is that all you’ve got, little angel?” Hyanthia hissed. Her voice carried over the storm of Light and took the breath from Azrael’s lungs. Azrael lurched forward and coughed up blood.

  Then Azrael felt it. The cold pull of the demon she’d made a deal with to become Queen.

  Azrael plummeted to the ground. Dust fanned out as she landed. Light flashed in a shockwave and the forests fell silent under her failure.

  “You are nothing,” Azrael cried as the Dark shard in her soul suppressed her will. “You have fallen so far from grace. You couldn’t have my wings, so you took my demon?” Azrael swallowed and scanned the dark forests. He must be here.

  Hyanthia giggled, a dark, slithering sound, and Azrael’s stomach turned. No, he wasn’t here. Like the cowardly demon
that he was, he would test the firmness of their deal, putting only Hyanthia at risk. His blood was what had changed Hyanthia, and thus qualified her for the deal’s terms. The deal... “I” cannot kill you.

  Hyanthia fanned out a black, webbed hand into the haze behind her. “Gabriel,” she drawled his name. “He made it clear I was on the wrong side. I was unappreciated, unloved. But my demon called to me. He told me that I would be made immortal, powerful...respected.” She crouched and rubbed her palms over her grey face. “I am beautiful, no? I am an amazing creature, am I not?”

  Azrael seethed at her narcissism. “The price was my Meretta, my Queen.” Light swelled in her chest. “You will pay!”

  Azrael struck out, not with her own magic, but with Alexandria’s. Alexandria latched onto her call and surged power through Azrael’s eyes. This time was different, this time Azrael was ready for Alexandria’s overpowering presence. Azrael embraced it and gave Alexandria full domain over her flesh, a soul who was not bound by a demon’s deal.

  Alexandria’s rage and power far exceeded her own, and Alexandria ripped open the gates of Light in Azrael’s soul without hesitation, flooding the forests once more with brilliant luminescence. But this time it came with a purifying wave. Flames erupted through the trees and seared the darkness. Hyanthia’s pets shrieked and flitted into the pitch as Hyanthia cried out in pain.

  “Xorn!” Hyanthia called his name.

  Azrael faltered. She couldn’t defy him. Her soul couldn’t dream of it. But Alexandria could.

  “Obedience to the Fallen will bring only death and destruction.” A wise and ancient voice boomed from Azrael’s throat. “Be gone, foul beast!” The flames soared as an ancient song hurled around her, singing the promise of life in her ears. To Azrael, it was beautiful. But to the Fallen, it would be death.

  Hyanthia hissed and shielded her eyes. The Darkness chipped and burned at her flesh. “Xorn!” she called again, but he didn’t come. She’d served her purpose.

  Hyanthia’s white eyes glittered with tears as she turned and fled.

  The wails of the creatures grew and diminished as they began their retreat into a Dark portal, swift on Hyanthia’s heels, leaving the dead and wounded behind in their haste. The sounds of battle faded and Azrael knelt as exhaustion overwhelmed her. She watched the tent, now a mass of sticks and shreds of cloth. The Darkness fell in on itself, cracking and bleeding like a dying creature.

  The threat was gone. But Alexandria pressed against Azrael’s heart, promising one last thing before they parted once again.

  Azrael’s gaze was snapped up and she focused on Meretta’s ethereal form.

  With tear-misted eyes, Azrael clasped a hand over her mouth. Could she fall for this again? Was it another one of Nethara’s tricks?

  “Azrael, it’s me.” Meretta’s melodic voice brought Azrael to her knees.

  “Meretta? Is it really you?”

  Meretta’s form wavered like a mirage as she smiled. “Alexandria has shown me what has transpired since my death. Azrael, let go of your vengeance. My soul is at peace. The Queen, she is at peace. You must live for a better future for angels, humans, even demons. Only you can change the way things are. You must survive. You must try.”

  Azrael scraped her knees against the pebbled ground as she crawled toward Meretta’s phantom. “But, you’re gone. How can I survive? How can I live when you aren’t here to live with me?”

  Meretta drifted like a wisp and placed a cold hand on Azrael’s cheek. Azrael shivered as if morning’s dew touched her face. “Azrael, you must live because I want you to live. Live on, for me.”

  Meretta smiled and began to fade. “No,” Azrael whimpered. “No, don’t go!”

  As Meretta disappeared, Alexandria took no unnecessary risk and abandoned Azrael’s body without another thought.

  The air cleared and Azrael gave a sharp gasp. Gabriel’s limp body half buried in the tent’s ashes shone like a diamond trapped in coarse stone.

  Gentle smoke puffed from Gabriel’s charred feathers. Azrael scrambled to his side, careless of the angelic warriors rushing in to kill off the abandoned demonic beings that still squirmed in the ashes.

  “Water!” Azrael shouted. She was met with startled stares, golden blades poised halfway through dark flesh. Her eyes flashed with Light. “Get me water, you idiots! His feathers are burning!”

  Comprehension dawned on a few faces, and the angels ran out of the now crowded remains of the tent.

  Frantically, Azrael waited at Gabriel’s side, cooing in his ear. “It’s over now. I know it hurts. Help is coming.” His body lay like a corpse, unreceptive to Azrael’s concern. She would have feared the worst if she hadn’t noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest.

  After what seemed like hours, scrambling angels came with bowls and jugs filled with water. A sizzling sound filled the air as they doused him. Gabriel’s wings shook in light responsive shakes. They were soaked and charred black and she searched his face for his lively azure eyes, but they remained closed.

  Azrael looked up at the angels holding empty containers. “Help me take him to Celestia. It’s time for us to go.” Azrael’s voice sounded more confident than she felt. I will do this for you, Meretta. I will live on.

  A guard with dirt streaked across his otherwise flawless face stepped forward. “Shouldn’t he recover here? The forests are supposed to be sanctuary.” He hesitated, looking into Azrael’s eyes now void of Divine Light. “My Lady,” he prompted.

  “It’s obvious we can no longer trust the forest to protect us. We must leave this place before more demons return to avenge their fallen brothers.”

  He nodded solemnly. Still crouched protectively over Gabriel, Azrael eyed the small force of angels, now seeing them as a Queen would. This wasn’t enough to protect Manor Saffron, much less drive Xorn and his hoard back to Mhakdar. She couldn’t rely on Alexandria to save her a third time. To begin her reign of change, she’d need all the Aedium on her side, much less alive. “Tell the others to stop wasting time patrolling for demons, we won’t gain any power while their master still lives. We need to go to Celestia and demand reinforcements.”

  Slowly, the guards spread word to the others. Azrael kept watch over Gabriel while angels chopped wood and tied animal skins scattered among the encampment to make a stretcher. She prayed that at least until their departure, the forests would hold their promise of the sanctuary it’d always been. To her relief, it was one prayer, heard or not, that was granted.

  Taking flight, Azrael left the false sanctuary behind. As she pumped her wings to reach the winding updrafts, she didn’t dare cast her gaze to Gabriel’s limp form. She prayed he would survive.

  After knowing all her life that she’d fallen from the heavens, it felt strange to return. It was on Terra that she’d learned how to survive, found love and faith, found grace. Now she would rise, and build upon the hope she’d tasted in Gabriel’s kiss and face the corrupted angelic Council that had left Meretta in Manor Saffron to die. She would find a way to change them, to get through to them and make them see their evil, even through their violet eyes.

  When the golden city came into view, peeking through the clouds, she wasn’t sure if hope would be enough.

  To Be Continued ...

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  Series Order

  Lucifer’s Fall: Short Story Prequel (FREE!)

  Fallen to Grace : Book 1

  Rise to Hope: Book 2

  Stand for Justice: Book 3

  Manor Saffron: Bonus Full-Length Standalone Novel

  Also by A.J. Flowers

  Indulge in the Ancient Realms Collection of Short Stories

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ul Bound!

  The gods are dying... Thane thinks they deserve it.

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  THE SKY DARKENED AND a red hue took over the horizon, as it always did when the demons were near. The heavens bled when demons took the lost souls that drifted on the winds.

  Altera imagined there should have been screams or cries, but the aftermath came upon her in its crushing silence. Only her heart thundered in her ears, her blood rushing with fear that this time, the demons would not be satiated with what they’d found in the clouds as they’d done once before, a terrifying night she’d never forget.

  A golden orb dotted the sky, proof that this wasn’t an event of her imagination. Her grip tightened on her husband who stood rigid as they stared together at the descending piece of heaven. Uruk hadn’t known true terror. He’d only seen the result of it in her eyes, a void of loss that would always be a part of her soul.

  But this child that drifted through the sky had survived what her sisters had not. Its mystical warmth still radiated, somehow having surpassed so many demons winging through the clouds.

  Altera didn’t dare look beyond the orb. Bat-like wings still cast shadows over ruby clouds and her tongue locked to the roof of her mouth as she dried up a scream in her throat.

  “They’re leaving,” Uruk said, his voice a broken sound across the still sea of silence between them.

  She caught her breath enough to speak. “She’s still alive,” Altera whispered, knowing that this would be a daughter of the sky, a Windborn child of beauty and grace that would be an undeserved blessing for them all, should the babe survive their cruel world.