by Laury Falter
Eran nodded once, showing respect and appreciation to the chief, and I deduced that this arrangement had been in process for some time.
Their discussion continued then but on less significant topics and when the meeting ended we left the tent. Stepping out, Eran looked up towards the sky. “Nearly dusk…Good,” he muttered. Then he turned to me and with a glimmer in his eyes, he asked, “Will you fly with me?”
I agreed, we found our boulder, stripped down, ran through the forest and launched ourselves in to flight. Heading away from the village, we rose into the sky, lifting ourselves above the mountain range. There, in a spectrum of yellow, orange, and peach, Eran paused and I came to his side, as we watched the sunset together.
Just before the last of the sun’s rays sunk below the horizon, Eran turned to me. His lips were pursed together as if he were trying not to smile, to hold back an influx of emotions. Then, a wave of peace came over him, his shoulders dropped, his expression grew quietly confident, and his eyes – his gorgeous blue-green eyes – radiated warmth and purpose.
“Magdalene,” he said, using my eternal name. “I became your guardian in an effort to protect your life, your existence. I have done so to the very best of my ability and will continue to do so regardless of your answer tonight.”
My brow creased and I asked suspiciously, “My answer?”
Without addressing it further, he continued on, unshaken and determined. “When I fell to earth and met you the first time…in Germany…I did so with the intention of finding you and learning about the messenger who had saved her kind from extinction by training them to defeat their enemies. But I learned so much more than I knew possible. I learned not about the messenger but the woman…who gave courage new meaning, who devoted her existence to saving everyone but herself, who defied the odds and endured agony beyond description at the hands of her enemies all to deliver messages for the distraught on earth to those in the afterlife. But it wasn’t until London did I witness the awakening of your love for me. It was there in your eyes in your final moments…and it was undeniable…But you still hadn’t spoken the words. Not until Paris did you confess your love for me. That was over two and a half centuries, Magdalene. Two and a half centuries is a long time to wait.” He paused to chuckle at the understatement and I, recognizing the truth to those words, joined him. Then he grew serious again, though I noticed that the gleam in his handsome face never wavered. “I hope it won’t take you as long to answer my question tonight…I promise to remain your loyal protector no matter how often you return to earth; I promise to remain dedicated to you beyond the realm of a protector; and I promise you that what I feel for you…this feeling that defies description and makes the word ‘love’ pale in comparison…what I feel for you will never end…” He paused briefly to emphasize his message, “…ever, Magdalene.”
His head dipped then as he pulled something from his pocket. Holding it in a way that kept it hidden from my sight, he spoke again. Only then did he express any hint of awkwardness. “I’m aware that by custom, I should be bent on one knee. Given that there is no ground here to do so, please don’t fear that my chivalry is at risk. I chose the sky for this proposal because it gave us privacy and peace.”
“This proposal?” I mumbled.
Only then did I realize what Eran was doing. It became clearer when he reached for my hand and slipped a ring on my finger.
“I-I picked this up a while ago…on a trade for the chief. I-I hope you like it.”
I didn’t even bother to glance at it. Stunned, I asked, “You’ve been carrying this around with you? I had no idea…”
“That was my intention…” he said, laughing quietly.
He hadn’t released my hand yet, still holding it gently in his own. “Magdalene, will you do me the momentous honor of being my wife?”
Beyond the lump in my throat and just before the tears came, I answered, “Yes…yes…for all eternity…yes…”
Eran sighed and pulled me into his arms, the hardness of his body meeting mine, causing my heart to leap. He moved his lips to mine and kissed me softly, tenderly but with deep, underlying passion. When he pulled away, I saw relief in him and it took me by surprise.
“You must have known I would say yes…Of course I would say yes…”
His head fell and shook back and forth. “I’ve seen you deny so many suitors…I couldn’t be sure…”
Waiting until he lifted his head again and our gazes met, I responded pointedly, “None of them were you.”
He drew in a staggered breath and subdued a quivering smile. He understood my meaning. “Then thank you for waiting for me too.”
I was again yanked down the tunnel then and ended up in my body a short while later.
We were now standing on the edge of a crystal clear lake, surrounded by fragrant, towering pine trees. To our left was a wooden dock and, beyond it, a burbling brook ran across boulders and stones to reach the lake’s edge. On the horizon, jagged red and brown mountain peaks cut through a layer of misty clouds.
I had been here before.
If I could turn around, if I had any control over this body, I would see a log cabin built at the base of the trees, chairs set on the front porch running the length of the structure and a dirt path carved from the porch steps to the dock down the hill.
Of course, I couldn’t turn around and it didn’t look like this body would do it any time soon. I was standing before the chief with Eran beside me. We were dressed in decorative Native American ceremonial clothes and as I listened to the chief I knew what we were doing.
“Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the wind, I pray to you…look after the well being of these ones who are in love.” The chief motioned to Eran and me, and I felt my head turn for a peek at Eran.
He was stunning.
The profile of his face; the strong slope of his nose; the eyelashes that brushed the top of his lids; the defined edge of his jaw line; the purposeful line of his lips, all made my knees go weak.
I looked back towards the chief before my body could collapse.
“Help them seek pure thoughts and act with the intention of helping each other and others. Let them learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and every rock. Make their hands respect the things you have made and their ears sharp to hear your voice. Make them wise so that they may understand the things you have taught my people. Help them to remain calm and strong in the face of all that comes towards them.”
The chief ended the vows, his mouth falling closed, his hands clasped at his hips.
At the same time, Eran and I both realized that the ceremony had ended and we turned towards each other.
Eran was now the one staring, gratified and loving.
Behind us, the entire village had come to participate in our celebration. I did my best to catch sight of my parents in this life, these being the only ones I had come across while reviewing my past lives. They met me briefly, faces in a crowd but being the only white ones they were easy to distinguish. She was simple with a young beauty that challenged the passing of time. Her eyes were welcoming and proud and her voice was melodic, equal to that of an opera singer. He was tall and strong with wrinkles that defined the years he’d already spent on this earth. His smile was soft and supportive.
These were my parents…messengers in their own right…my family in more ways than one.
And then they were gone and I was unable to look for them as I was unable to control the body I was in now.
Food and dancing followed the ceremony and then dusk came and just Eran and I were left.
The air had grown cold so Eran built a fire in the hearth and we retreated inside. We weren’t alone though. Not far away, owls screeched and wolf howls echoed through the trees.
The cabin was simple inside with just a table and two chairs for meals and a sofa and bookcase near the fireplace for relaxing.
I stood near the fire, holding my hands to it, rubbing them together. Eran moved around behind me
, pulling blankets and pillows from their folded spot by the hearth and laying them on the floor.
A moment later he was beside me, standing close by.
“Are you nervous?” he asked tenderly, watching me for any sign of the emotion.
I realized then that through the centuries this would be the very first time I would be intimate with anyone at all. Without consciously intending to, I had saved myself for Eran. So, being completely inexperienced, I should have been nervous, unsure, but I wasn’t. I felt at ease, loved and protected.
“No,” I replied simply, openly.
“I’ll be gentle.”
“I know.”
He was more than gentle. He was patient, moving over my body with his lips and hands slowly exploring, teasing me. His lips left warm, moist marks along their trail. His hands, roughly textured, felt like silk against my skin. At places along my body, he would squeeze, gently, seductively until I could no longer hold myself back.
“Eran,” I breathed, drawing him to me.
The sharp intake of air told me that he had found his limit too.
Our lips met, moving feverishly, enticing, pulling me into him. Our hips pressed anxiously, our limbs wrapped around each other.
Then the room went black.
When I awoke, I found myself on my back against the blankets laid across the cabin floor.
“Please…” I whispered, “Please tell me that I didn’t faint.”
Eran laid beside me, his arm bent so he could prop his head against the palm of his hand. Various parts of our bodies touched, leaving warm connections between us. He was staring at me, almost smirking really.
He playfully pondered his answer before saying, “I don’t believe lying to you on our day of marriage would set a good precedence.”
I closed my eyes again and groaned, bringing my hand up to my eyes and covering them.
He took it lightly and guided it back down to my hip.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m thankful I have that affect on you,” he declared, still on the brink of a smirk.
He then took his finger and traced the contours of my hand, up my arm, and along my collarbone. “You are so fragile…” he whispered. “And yet so strong…”
I reached up and took hold of his hand, lightly kissing the tips of each finger. Eran’s breathing became staggered and on the last one, he fluidly lifted his body to lie delicately on top of me. The weight of him was comforting and exciting at the same time.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, tentatively.
“Oh yes…” I said, noticing my body coming to life again.
His endurance was remarkable. He was cautious, ensuring my body wouldn’t give out again, yet indulgent. In the end, it was me who begged for him.
The covers were left entangled around us, the pillows strewn aside, the fire simmered to just a flicker.
Once again lying beside me, Eran placed his hand against my cheek and turned me to him. I smiled weakly, incredibly content, intoxicated by him.
“You,” he whispered his eyes warm and fixated on me, “hold my heart captive.”
I nodded solemnly before murmuring my reply. “And I’ll never let it go.”
I wanted to stay there, beside Eran, immersed in his enchanting blue-green eyes and held firmly by his powerful arms, forever.
That was not going to happen.
I sensed that this dramatic event in the span of my life was coming to an end and, even as I fought against it, I was pulled away from Eran and into the tunnel that would take me to the next part of my life.
In direct contrast to the serenity and love I felt just seconds ago, my body was now in explosive pain.
I found myself bound between two trees, my arms and legs outstretched and tethered to the trunks. I had been pummeled with swelling already starting on my face and limbs. Blood ran down my body, saturating the dirt below. What I noticed most of all was the hair standing up on the back of my neck, so upset they were wrenching out of my skin.
My head hung to my chest with my eyes closed, cringing against the throbbing that vibrated through my body.
A fire crackled in front of me, filling the air with smoke and heating the already warm night.
Swallowing hard, I lifted my head with the little energy I had left. It felt like concrete against my weakened neck.
Against the firelight, I caught sight of a body just to my left, sprawled in the dirt at abstract angles, bones bent in places they shouldn’t be. The wings, stark white, had been cut off and tossed against the body, as if they were frivolous and cheap. The head was turned towards me, his eyes were open but there was no life in them.
“Campion,” my body whispered wracked with sorrow. A wave of guilt rose up in me causing a sob to escape, and I suddenly felt nauseous.
Mocking laughter filled the clearing which I faced, laughter that I recognized instantly.
Abaddon came in to view then, bending over so that he could peer up from underneath where my head was bowed. Instinctually, my eyes followed him as he stood straight.
“You are seeing clearly,” he confirmed. “Campion, your dear old friend and your guardian’s best man, is now dead.”
“I know,” I seethed. “I escorted him to the other side. He’s safe now. You can’t touch him.”
“Ah yes…your talent in ushering your Alterum friends to the other side. I hadn’t considered that when you passed out a moment ago.” He brought a finger to his lips, pondering. “Maybe I should have eased up on my torture so that you weren’t able to do so…I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Chuckles erupted and I noticed we weren’t alone. Sarai, Achan, Elam, and those I didn’t recall, although I’m sure I knew them at the time I lived through what I was now witnessing stood on the outskirts of the clearing, sneering and confident at the position I was now in. Their choice of weapons hung from their shoulders or their belt and they were bloodied and panting as if Campion had given them a good fight.
Achan, who was closest to Campion, stepped forward and kicked him in the leg. Campion’s body rolled feebly to the side and back again.
He did not move otherwise.
“Leave him alone,” my body screamed ferociously, surprising myself at the level of energy I could muster. For a fleeting moment, the pain was gone and I flapped my wings wildly to free myself, thinking only of hurting him as they had done to Campion.
“Or what?” he taunted. “Will you redeem your friend? I’d like to see that happen.”
“I won’t need to,” I said with gritted teeth, breathing heavily from my exertion. “Eran will do that for me.”
Even the mention of his name caused the others in the group to bristle and glance at each other apprehensively.
“That’s right,” this body told them, using their fear against them. “Eran’s on his way. It may be a good time to flee and avoid his arrival.”
Abaddon snickered even as his cohorts grew more concerned. “Dear Messenger…his arrival is what we await…Besides, leaving wouldn’t allow us to watch the grand finale…” Abaddon paused to cogitate on his last thought. “And we certainly wouldn’t want to miss that…”
He waited for me to question his plan, to beg for an understanding of what he meant by ‘grand finale’ but I wouldn’t give in to his ego. I knew him too well. It would only incite him further. His face fell briefly when he found I wouldn’t play his game and he skipped away, across the clearing.
“Who,” he said, strolling in front of the others, “wishes to do the honors?” He withdrew a machete and grinned wickedly at me.
Each one stepped forward, calling out his name, eager for the opportunity to take my life, my eternal life.
Abaddon taunted me, and them, strolling around the circle again. “Who was it to draw the final blow to take Campion’s life?”
Achan stepped forward again, his chin lifted in pride.
My nausea worsened.
“Then it is you, my friend
,” said Abaddon, handing him the machete, “who is befitting the honor…”
The satisfaction on Achan’s face, in the dim light of dusk, could not be denied. He sauntered towards me, twirling the blade in his hand, intending to goad my panic.
It didn’t work.
I stared him directly in the eye.
“You won’t have that glare for long,” he hinted, passing by me to standing directly behind my body. “Though I promise not to rush this…”
The blade found the base of my right wing first.
It started as a sting, as if a large bee had pierced my skin there. But this wasn’t an insect. The sharpened edge of the machete began moving back and forth, sawing through what remained of my skin and into the bone.
I was able to keep my lips pursed. They broke their line once, quivering against the torture, but I forced them back in to place.
I would not allow them the glory of hearing me scream.
After several minutes, I felt my wing, its tendons and muscles no longer attached, dip down against its own weight.
The pain scorched through the entire right side of my body.
A sickening thud a second later told me that it had been dismembered from my torso.
The blade then began on the left wing.
Woozy and barely able to differentiate feeling from vision, I heard Abaddon approach, his feet crunching through the dead leaves towards me.
“Don’t worry, dear,” he whispered into my ear. “Not to let you down, the grand finale is yet to come.”
He now had the machete in his hand, which he used to cut through the ropes binding me to the trees.
I fell forward, my knees, chest and face hitting the bloodied dirt with impact enough to leave bruises. Shaking, weak, I pushed myself up only to collapse.
The fire was snuffed out and I was consumed by the darkness.
It was humid and hot even without the fire, leaving me struggling for air.
A cloak landed on top of me, suffocating me further. I shrugged it off as best I could.
Then, just before I heard the sound of their wings lifting them away, I felt something drop beside me. Opening my eyes, I found it was the machete.