The Fallen One

by Jane, C. R.

  Chapter 4

  Before

  I wake with a start from my blood loss induced rest. I’m pretty confident now that I’m going to die since my immortal body has yet to start healing itself. My whole body feels like it’s been ripped into pieces. My wings give a soft flutter beneath me. I’m laying on them, I can feel that both of them have been broken in several places. I’m frankly surprised that the Fallen didn’t manage to just rip them off of me and finish me that way. An angel can’t live without its wings after all. I suppose they thought it would be better if I died slowly, in this mind-altering pain, than dying suddenly. I’ve never felt such agony. I feel absurdly happy to still have my wings though.

  I take a deep, shuddery breath. Even breathing requires concentration. It’s like my body has already decided that it’s done. I lay still for a moment, just focusing on the air going in and out of my body. I need to drag myself out of this cave just in case the pack of Fallen comes by to make sure I’ve been finished off. I’ll just rest for one second and then I can start to move.

  Time ticks by slowly. I’m aware of every sound around me, just waiting for one of the Fallen to appear. Finally, when I feel like breathing isn’t taking as much of an effort, I attempt to pull myself from the tiny cave. After what seems like an hour I manage to pull myself out. I immediately collapse to the ground, trembling with the pain that has doubled with that small effort. I check ‘walking’ off my mental list of things I’m capable of doing and decide that I’m just going to have to keep dragging myself. Eventually Torin or one of my other brothers will come looking for me. Right?

  Inch by inch I pull myself through the thick underbrush, every small movement feeling like someone is driving nails into every portion of my body. Just a little bit further I tell myself. Sweat is pouring off my body, the smallest exertion even too much for my perfected form. I have to take breaks frequently, my body unable to handle the strain. I’ve never felt so helpless.

  This goes on for hours. I know that I have barely made any headway. Every rustle of leaves has me bracing for a Fallen’s face to pop out from behind a tree. I hear the trickle of water off in the distance. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of how dry my throat is and how much I have been sweating over the last few hours. With a destination in mind I set off, inch by excruciating inch.

  I’m so intent on just surviving that I fail to see the portions of the underbrush that are hiding a steep ravine until the ground gives way beneath me and I find myself bouncing down the side of a steep cliff where the river I heard earlier churns angrily beneath me.

  I fall into the water, immediately sinking to the bottom quickly as my fatigue and wounds make it impossible for me to rise above the surface. My wings feel like they are actually made of stone and they contribute to pulling me down into the swirling black depths of the river.

  “Immortal my ass,” I think to myself bitterly as my consciousness fades to black.

  ………………

  I wake up to a cold cloth patting my face. I rush to sit up and then collapse with a groan. I’m definitely still significantly injured…but I’m alive, which is more than I could have hoped for. I slowly regain use of my faculties. My body still hurts everywhere I can say for certain, but the extent of my remaining injuries is unclear. It does seem that my healing powers have begun to kick in though. I begin evaluating my body, trying to move my wings at least a little when the cold cloth descends onto my face again. The room finally comes into focus and I find myself staring up at a nervous, frail looking human girl.

  At first glance she is homely, little more than skin and bones. She’s dressed in what looks like a pile of rags and there’s a smudge of dirt on her slightly too large nose. We stare at each other, each analyzing the other. Her hand is frozen in the air holding the dripping rag that she had been patting my face with. Immediately realizing she isn’t a threat, I ignore her and begin to survey my surroundings.

  I’m in a small structure, more hut than house, that has seen better days. The floor is made up of a packed red clay that’s cracked and broken in places. The walls of the structure look like they are nothing but sticks bound together with sinew or something similar. There’s a rough door made of a few planks of wood and some animal skin covering the entrance to the structure and little holes have been left open in the walls, either by design, or by decay. A slight breeze flows through them carrying with it the slight iron scent of blood from an animal that must have been slaughtered nearby recently. It’s basically a shit hole.

  The girl makes a small coughing noise. I turn to look at her and raise an eyebrow. She’s fiddling with the rag and staring at my large wings that stretch almost the entire shack. “Youuuuu have wings,” she stutters out.

  I roll my eyes and wince as even that movement sends pain thundering through my head. “Smart one aren’t you?” I ask sarcastically.

  Her brow furrows at my words. I continue to ignore her as I assess if I’m going to be able to drag myself out of the structure on my own volition. Thinking about dragging myself out of the place reminds me of the fact that this girl is literally half my size. Which obviously begs the question…how the hell did I get out of the river.

  I turn to look at her. She’s still staring at me with a mix of awe and a little fear, her brow still furrowed. “You’re a particularly tiny human,” I say to her.

  She gives me a look that clearly states that now she thinks I’m the idiot. “You’re being awfully rude considering I saved your life you know,” she tells me. Her voice is rough and frankly, slightly hard on my ears. I’m impressed with the little sass in her speech though. I wouldn’t have thought such a mouse would be capable of that.

  I roll my eyes at her. “Little human, I’m obviously talking about the fact that I’m sure I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds. How the fuck did you get me out of that river?” I ask. She looks proud of herself now.

  “I’m not telling you until you say thank you. Even beings such as yourself…whatever you are, should know how to say thank you.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “Thank you?” I tell her, the words sounding foreign on my tongue.

  “Yes, good job. Although the way you say it seems like it’s the first time the words have crossed your lips,” she tells me.

  I’m flabbergasted at the audacity of this little urchin girl, and I feel a small flush hit my cheeks that a human would talk to me this way.

  She walks to a trunk that is pushed against the wall of the house. From out of the trunk, she pulls a rope that looks like it has been doused in something. She brings it over to me, drops it at my feet, and puts her hands on her hips proudly. “Now what do you think of that?” she says.

  I look at her dully. “I have no idea what this has to do with you saving me,” I tell her haughtily.

  “Well that’s how I saved you,” she sputters. “The water wasn’t deep. You were just so broken up that you sank to the bottom. I was washing some clothes in the river when I saw you roll down that hill. It was just a matter of stepping into the water to put the rope around you. I tied the end of the rope to my horse and there you go,” she explains.

  I notice for the first time that her clothes are wet up to her relatively flat chest. She’s so short that I realize she must have been right. There were no “murky depths,” my body simply gave out. I’m mildly impressed, but also mildly embarrassed that this human had to save me.

  “Well good job for showing more ingenuity than your kind is usually known for,” I tell her, enjoying the angry sparkle in her eyes at my comment. She says nothing and begins to grab some white cloths from another trunk. She approaches me without asking permission and begins to wrap some of my larger wounds with the cloths, spreading a strange smelling poultice on the wounds beforehand. I can tell that she is trying to pull the bandages tighter than they need to be in her annoyance and I laugh at this tiny human trying to hurt me.

  “What are you laughing at?” she snaps at me.

  “Nothing,�
� I reply innocently, deciding perhaps a little too late that I shouldn’t antagonize the person who saved my life too much. She moves to my wings and they give a flutter at her soft touch. “Whoa there,” I tell her, not wanting to get aroused in this situation. It’s not that she is making me aroused, but my wings have a mind of their own. Sometimes they’re basically like having an extension of my dick.

  She turns a dark, beet red like she can read my mind and retracts her hands from my wings. “Where else hurts?” she asks.

  I carefully continue to evaluate my injuries and am surprised to find that the poultice seems to be speeding up my already remarkable healing power. “What’s in this stuff?” I ask, grabbing the poultice away from her and sniffing the contents further to see if I can unmask the ingredients.

  “It’s my mum’s secret recipe,” she replies. “We’ve always been healers in our family.”

  “Where’s your family now?” I ask, looking around suspiciously like they are going to come in from the front entry flap any time now. That’s the last thing I need is more humans getting a good look at my wings since they are still too injured to be able to retract.

  A shuttered look passes over her face. “They’re gone,” she says in a pain filled voice that speaks volumes. I generally have very little sympathy for the human race, but the thought of this tiny girl being alone feels wrong to me.

  “Is it just you here then?” I ask tentatively. She gives a quiet nod and begins pulling more things out of her trunk. I’m wondering if she’s actually a witch or something and has enchanted the trunks since they seem to hold far more than normal human furniture. I’m distracted from my train of thought when she brings over a chunk of bread with a liberal amount of creamy cheese spread on top. Suddenly I realize I’m famished. I scarf it down so fast that she doesn’t have time to move. She’s gawking at me like a cow in a field.

  “How would you like me to act after not eating for days and being on the verge of death?” I ask her annoyed. She wisely says nothing and cuts me another portion of bread and cheese, this one much larger than the first. I scarf this one down nearly as fast and start to feel a little relief from my hunger, although I’m sure I could still eat an entire beast at the moment if the opportunity presented itself. She pours some water from a clay pitcher and hands it to me, immediately refilling it when I hand it back to her empty two seconds later.

  “So now what?” she asks after I have drunk her entire pitcher.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well you obviously can’t leave here in your condition. I’m just wondering when you’re going to tell me how wonderful I am and ask to stay the night.”

  This makes me grin. I’m starting to like the little cheek this human is giving me. Not even any angels really dare to talk back to me. “I’m staying the night,” I tell her, ignoring her first request. My healing capabilities should have me close to as good as new by morning since they have finally started working. I’ve already been gone for at least two days by my calculations, and I’m sure the council has started sending out search parties.

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll let it slide,” she tells me as she hands me a potato sack filled with cotton to use as a pillow and a threadbare blanket. I look at her “mattress” lying on the floor, it doesn’t look much better. I think longingly of my opulent bed in the palace that the council stays in. One thing about humans, they are so far behind in technology and luxury. This girl is living in squalor when it shouldn’t take a genius to come up with a better version of a bed. I say nothing though, not because I’m scared to insult her but because we are strictly forbidden from advancing human technology. I’m not even supposed to be talking to this girl but I’m thinking there’s probably a loophole in my Watcher contract somewhere that covers when a human girl saves you…because I’m sure that was contemplated.

  I settle against my potato sack, my wings cushioning my back a little. She blows out the two candles she had burning. I hear some rustling as she changes clothes and I smirk knowing that her face is probably tomato red at the idea of changing in front of me. I hear her lay down on her mattress after a moment. We’re both quiet, listening to the sounds of the night. Despite the fact that I’m sure a Fallen wouldn’t think to follow me to this place (it’s a well-known fact that all angels prefer splendor to squalor), I still keep one ear alert for any sounds that are out of the ordinary. The last thing I want is for a Fallen to discover this place. I feel oddly protective of this odd little creature. Thinking about it, it’s actually quite remarkable that she would save something that was clearly not human.

  “So what are you?” she squeaks out in the darkness.

  “A bird,” I respond dryly. I’m unaware of creatures besides angels that would have my type of wings. There might be some fae perhaps, but they are the stuff of legend at this point.

  “Haha,” she responds in an annoyed voice. “Will you tell me if I guess?”

  “How about this, if you can’t get it in three guesses than you’re too stupid to know.” She’s quiet for so long that I think she’s fallen asleep.

  “An angel?” she finally says hesitantly.

  “Very good.” There’s another long pause.

  “Does that mean that heaven is real?” she asks, catching me off guard. I hesitate to answer the question, part of what allows a human to have a chance at heaven is the fact that they have to rely on faith to get there. It’s something I’ve always thought a bit unfair, but maybe the tradeoff of having a soul makes it worth it.

  “Do you believe in heaven?” I ask her, throwing the question back at her.

  “I want to. I want to believe my whole family is up there looking down at me.”

  Suddenly wanting to comfort this girl I give her the best answer I can without directly telling her Paradise exists and that I’ve been there. “I’m sure that your family is watching you and missing you just as much as you are missing them.” I can almost hear her smile in the darkness and the soft sounds of her snoring a few moments later let me know I succeeded in giving her the answer she was looking for.

  It takes me a bit longer to fall asleep despite the fact that my healing body is begging for it. My mind is whirling over the attack and who was behind it. Finally, my body offers me no choice but to fall into a deep slumber. A nagging thought stays right outside of my consciousness as I fall asleep.

  Chapter 5

  I wake up far sooner than I would like, the boisterous cawing of birds outside rousing me from a slumber filled with dreams of a beautiful face. I look over at the mattress nearby and see that the human is still sleeping. Camilla. I roll the name over my tongue thinking that the least I could do is try and call her by her name since she did save my life. Deciding to be nicer this morning, I begin examining my body to see how I’ve healed.

  I peel back the bandages that Camilla wrapped around my nastier cuts. I’m surprised that the skin looks good as new, as if nothing happened. That poultice must be magic since even with my supersonic healing I would at least still have a scar for a few days before it disappeared. The rest of my injuries that were under the bandages also look perfect. Examining my arms, chest, and legs, I note that the skin that didn’t get the poultice is still a little bruised. I’m going to have to get some to take with me.

  Grimacing at the thought of the next step, I tentatively begin to move my wings. They’re sore, but so much better than the day before. I send up another silent prayer of thanks that they weren’t ripped off my body. I retract them with a loud crack that wakes Camilla from what looked like a deep slumber. I would feel a bit bad, but I need to leave soon and I strangely didn’t want to slip out without saying goodbye…and perhaps thank you.

  She looks…cute. Her clothes and hair are rumpled and there’s a little bit of drool on the side of her mouth. I’ve never seen a human after they have first woken up and I stare at her in fascination. She notices me staring at her and pats down her hair self-consciously.

  “What
are you looking at?” she says with a blush, her eyes roving over my bare chest almost hungrily. I let her look, getting to see an angel with minimal clothes, especially one as supremely handsome as myself should be as good as a thank you from my perspective.

  “I’d like some of that poultice,” I tell her, getting straight to the point. I’m eager to get back to the counsel now that I’ve healed, and report all that has happened.

  “You’re leaving already?” she says worriedly. “But aren’t you still too injured?”

  I hold out my arms to show her that they look almost as good as new. She’s gaping again. I’m sure that although the poultice seems to help speed up healing, she’s never seen its healing powers combined with angelic healing power.

  She stands up and brushes down her dress. “Do you want to at least stay for breakfast?” she asks, walking back over to those magic trunks to pull out some food. I’m more than starving after the meager bread and cheese meal from the night before and I again hungrily scarf down the same meal. I wonder if she eats this all the time, it would certainly explain the fact that she’s basically nothing more than skin and bones.

  She’s left one of the trunks open and when I stand up after eating, a flash of color catches my eye. I walk over and peruse through the trunk before she can say anything. Spying a piece of parchment that has a shock of color on it, I pull it out of the trunk and unroll it so that I can see the whole thing. Much to my surprise…it’s spectacular.

  She’s painted a sunset, but it’s unlike any other human artwork I have ever seen. The sky is awash with colors so vibrant that they leap off the page. It’s so beautiful that it reminds me of the sunsets in Paradise. She has somehow managed to perfectly replicate the exact color of a fading sun. I’m in awe as I silently feast on the magnificence of the picture.

  “It’s terrible I know,” comes a shaking voice from behind me. I turn to gape at the little human who has just blown my mind with her talent.