Herald

by J Edwards Stone

  There were rows upon rows of beds, many in the process of becoming converted to bunks. There seemed more than enough space. I was sure it could accommodate hundreds, such was its size. I looked upwards and along the walls were openings that had been carved out, some occupied by vessels sitting or laying down. There were many here conversing with each other, reading books, or merely laying peacefully. I heard laughter too and voices all around.

  Few noticed our entrance, but Chase could not resist shouting a hearty greeting to announce our presence. Several faces turned towards us, curious and then surprised. The vessels closest to us who had been sitting in their cots stood up, watching.

  I suddenly felt as though I was on display again, and I approached Chase with some anxiety. “Chase. . .” I said, beginning to feel significant discomfort at the attention.

  “Larin, it’s ok! These are your friends. Family. I want you to get to know them. It’s important that you meet them sooner than later. We’re all here to help you,” he smiled at me, reaching down and taking my hand. The act felt proprietary, as though I was his, and I pulled my hand back uncomfortably.

  “I. . . I guess we can say hi to your friends,” I said, feeling the piercing gazes upon me. There was a murmur throughout the room, and the laughter and sounds of conversation died down. I was suddenly and completely the centre of attention.

  I resisted the urge to turn tail and run out, instead forcing a smile and waving my hand weakly. “Uh. . .hey,” I said awkwardly. This was met by complete silence.

  Chase slapped his hands against his sides, trying to decide how to proceed. “Let’s get some introductions going, shall we?” he said loudly, pushing me gently forward into the room.

  “Hey, James!” he said to the first vessel we approached. An attractive individual who seemed roughly my age looked at me, and I could see his struggle to decide what to say playing out in his face. Michael’s words about not accosting me earlier must have had quite the effect. I frowned, feeling anger again, but forcing it down.

  “Hello,” James finally decided and held out his hand. I shook it, the act feeling forced and false. “Welcome to, ah, our abode.” James managed a smile, and I returned it and thanked him, ending our awkward handshake and putting my hands behind my back.

  We moved around, greeting so many people I felt I had no hope of ever remembering their names. Some were friendly and genuinely wanted to make me feel welcome. Some were openly fearful of me, and I felt I understood it. The thought of being the Herald was scary enough to me, let alone for others. Chase continued to smile and chat merrily, doing his best to make me feel comfortable. I appreciated it considerably, and I tried to be optimistic that these faces would become familiar. I needed all the friends I could get.

  We passed a bed where a young vessel lay quietly. It was clear she had been crying. I was very sad for her, remembering again the terror of the transition from human to vessel, losing everything you knew. I felt strangely as though I wanted to comfort her, and I left a group who had been valiantly trying to include me in their conversation. I walked over to the bed and sat down beside her.

  “Hey,” I said softly, looking at her face. She couldn’t have been over twelve years old. The fever was fresh from her body, and I was surprised that I could sense it. “I’m Larin. What’s your name?” I asked gently.

  “Neesha,” she whimpered, wiping her nose with the sheet she was holding against her body.

  “Hi, Neesha,” I smiled. “I’m new around here too. It’s not so easy, is it?”

  “No,” she replied and burst into sobs. I leaned down and rubbed her shoulder while she cried, shushing her gently. I knew I couldn’t take her pain away, especially when I found I shared it. I was still not adjusted, and I also missed my friends, grieved for my brother.

  When she stopped crying, Neesha looked meekly back up to me, sniffling. “I want to go home,” she said, and I nodded.

  “I know you do, but. . .” I found I didn’t know what to say. “I can only tell you that it will get easier. You’ll adjust to these things.” I turned my head and watched as I flapped my wings behind me. “It’s actually pretty cool. I haven’t learned how to fly yet, but I can’t imagine anything more amazing in the whole world.”

  It was true. Every time I saw a vessel in flight, I felt an instinctual urge throughout my entire being to join them. As I thought about it, the call became even greater. Neesha looked away for a moment, then back at my face.

  “Yeah, I guess that would be cool,” she conceded. “Can you show me how when you learn?”

  I laughed, imagining myself teaching any vessel anything. But I nodded, smiling and assuring her that if I could, I would. She turned her head into her pillow but looked back once more and thanked me. I sensed her sadness, but also that it had eased.

  “Um,” I heard from behind me. Chase was staring at me, a strange expression on his face. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I smiled once more at Neesha, squeezing her arm. “It’ll be okay, I promise,” I said, immediately regretting it. I knew I shouldn’t make promises unless I could keep them, and anything was possible at this point. I had no idea what was around the next turn, what new surprise at the following bend. I sighed, getting up and saying my goodbyes to some or shaking hands absently with others as Chase made introductions in passing.

  When we got outside, I found myself lost in thought. The breeze was gentle and fresh, and I realized my body was built to be in the open. It always felt like a release to be outdoors. My wings shivered in pleasure, wanting to stretch.

  “That was really nice of you, Larin,” Chase said softly.

  “What was?” I asked, my reverie broken.

  “Back there, what you did for the little one. It’s really hard on them at first. We try our best to make it easy. . .but you know what it’s like. Losing your life, your family,” he trailed off.

  “She is so young,” I said softly. Chased sighed, agreeing.

  We walked in silence for some time, no sense of direction or purpose. It felt nice, and I would occasionally meet Chase’s eyes and we’d smile shortly at each other. He started making conversation after a while, and then he asked me about my former life – where I grew up, what my family was like.

  I started to sob.

  “Larin!” Chase said, distressed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean -” but I waved him away, regaining control.

  “It’s not something I want to talk about, Chase,” I said, hastily wiping my face.

  “Still fresh, I get it,” Chase said softly. “Larin, I just want you to know I’m here. I like you. I mean,” he paused, struggling for words. “I know it’s been rough, but I really want to help you get used to the place, do whatever I can to ease the transition. And I want you to know that if you want to talk, about anything. . .

  Anytime...”

  The last word was said with deep meaning behind it, and I turned to Chase, frowning. I understood what he wanted from me, but I was in no position to give it. I felt only my own desolation, confusion, and fear. It was a difficult process to get to acceptance. I was a long, long way from that.

  “Chase,” I whispered, stopping. “I think we -”

  “Don’t.”

  I stopped speaking and found myself frowning at Chase. There was anticipation in his face, anxiety. He did not want me to say the words. He did not want me to say I could not give him more.

  “I think we should go to the flight deck,” he said suddenly, forcibly cheerful. He strode ahead and I looked after him unhappily. I sighed and followed, keeping my thoughts about our prior conversation to myself.

  “What’s the flight deck?” I asked wearily. I felt very worn out suddenly, with a fervent desire for the quiet comfort of my room. I put on a brave face and rushed to keep up with Chase, feeling somewhat uncomfortable and sad that our relationship, such as it was, was now hanging precariously close to dissolution. For his sake.

  “The flight deck is the launching ground for the newly aw
akened who are ready to fly. Some of us newer folk nicknamed it.”

  “Flying?” I asked, perking up considerably.

  “Yep,” Chase said, regaining his sense of composure and cheerfulness. He grabbed my hand and I didn’t resist, not wanting to hurt him further.

  “Let’s go.”

  We made our way up the mountainside, alternating with periods of strained chatting and silence. Chase did not seem to take my rejection well, no matter how soft it was, though to his credit he was putting on a brave face. There were times I would stumble on part of the ancient stone walkway that was uneven in areas and he would attempt to grab my hand before I would not be able to contain my discomfort and withdraw it. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I wasn’t sure with a personality as intensely passionate as Chase’s that that would be possible.

  After what seemed like a long, long while, I bent over, gasping. “My god!” I huffed. “How tall is this mountain exactly?”

  “When you learn to fly, you won’t have to worry about it,” Chase told me, managing a grin.

  “Yeah, right,” I said, standing up again and putting one foot in front of the other as the vegetation and lush greenery gave way to more and more barren space. The air here was thinner, too, and I found it even harder to catch my breath. I nearly sobbed in relief when I saw a stone archway at the top of the path signalling we had finally reached our destination.

  “Wait ‘til you see this,” Chase grinned again at me, leaping off the ground. “I’m just going to let the others know we’re here!” he yelled from the air, as he left me where I stood.

  I found a boulder nearby and nearly collapsed on it, exhausted.

  After a few minutes, Chase returned with three other vessels, and I was surprised to see Tristan among them.

  “Larin,” the latter said, making a soft landing beside me. “I am quite pleased to see you here, I admit. We are just about to engage in lessons, and this is an excellent opportunity for observation.”

  “Observation? You mean participation!” quipped Chase as I rolled my eyes. “Guess, what? There’s a lot of excitement that you’re here. I may have led on that you were going to make the jump.” He grinned at me, and my mouth dropped open in shock.

  “You what?!” I cried, groaning. All I needed was extra attention. Sure enough, within moments at least a dozen other vessels were seen ascending the mountain, curious to see “the Herald” make her first flight.

  Yeah, not happening.

  “Come, Larin,” said Tristan, ignoring Chase. “I would like to show you the peak myself.”

  Despite my annoyance at Chase, I smiled at Tristan, grateful for his aura of quiet strength. He was matter-of-fact, but not in a careless way. I felt safe around him, and I followed.

  We approached the edge of a vast cliff. Several young vessels were listening to instruction, flexing and bending their wings as their feathers reflected bright rays of sunlight all around the peak. Individuals, clearly instructors, were mimicking various poses of “correct” wing positioning and for some simply how to flap in unison. I watched, agog, trying to understand how anyone could find the courage to take the jump off this enormous height.

  There were four gentle thuds behind me. I turned and saw Michael, and my heart leapt. I felt suddenly much better, knowing he was with me here. We smiled at each other before I noticed Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel beside him. Raphael was watching me, and he looked suddenly at Michael, a slow grin creeping up his face. I blushed furiously and nodded quickly at Gabriel and Uriel, acknowledging them and looking away before I embarrassed myself further.

  They approached me. “We heard there was a spectacle about to occur,” Gabriel said, genially. I laughed, shaking my head.

  “Hardly, I’m just here to watch.”

  Uriel snorted, choosing instead to look at the trainees. I noticed a glint of curiosity in his eyes, and I wondered if they truly thought I would actually try out flying after only being a vessel for such a short time.

  Michael came up beside me and I resisted smiling at him stupidly again, nodding casually instead. It really did feel good to know he was here.

  “So. . .” I said, purposely averting my eyes towards the instructors.

  “So,” replied Michael.

  “SO,” said Raphael a little more loudly, his word slightly more meaningful. I looked at him sidelong, choosing to ignore the inflection and his cheeky grin.

  “I’m not jumping.” I feigned ignorance at what I knew he was witnessing regarding my growing infatuation with Michael, instead looking at Raphael sternly. He merely continued to smile but nodded.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. Most vessels can’t fly for many weeks after they awaken. And even then, sometimes longer, until they have gotten over their fear of heights,” he said.

  Chase was clearly overwhelmed to be surrounded by the Council and the higher commanders, inconspicuously trying to stand closer and share in the importance of the occasion. I couldn’t help but smile to myself. He was certainly a character. I hoped we could be friends, if he could allow it, and once I’d gathered my wits and acclimatized to my circumstances. Michael looked down at me, a soft expression in his eye.

  “You needn’t be afraid, Larin. Vessels have learned to do this since the dawn of time. It will come to you when you are ready. Nobody will push you nor do they expect you to do anything today. You require training still, and that will take several days at the minimum, once you have mastered the use of your wings. There are many safety protocols we observe for the first flights, and thus you are always in good hands.”

  I let out a short breath, shaking my head. I still couldn’t imagine coming anywhere close to flying, despite the desire that was startling in its sudden fierceness.

  “Even then,” Michael continued, “it is very rare that vessels are successful for many jumps. There has never been a first independent flight. Allow no one to put pressure on you,” he looked meaningfully at Chase, who flushed.

  Dozens more had arrived now, landing quietly in the background, curious to see the Herald engage in her first leap. I gulped, thinking how they were about to be sorely disappointed. We walked closer to the cliff. Tristan was explaining how the wings gained their power through the strength of the muscles in the chest wall, not the back as one would expect. I listened, fascinated, as he described the way the wings thrust in a swimming-like motion. The flow of the air current determined the speed of the ascent or the descent, etc.

  We arrived quite close to the edge. I tiptoed as close as I dared, peeking down. I nearly fainted from the sight alone, stumbling back several feet and closing my eyes in dizziness. I backed up against something hard and looked over my shoulder to see Michael, an amused grin on his face.

  “Wow,” I said weakly.

  “I understand it is quite the sight for first-timers.”

  “You can say that,” I said sarcastically, then thought again to that moment of being brought to the Citadel when I had become aware of being carried at a great, great height. I swallowed again, closing my eyes and feeling dizzy. Michael rubbed my arm in a familiar, comfortable fashion.

  Raphael approached us, his eyes squinted but his good humor still apparent.

  “You kids better slow down, or we will have to get you a room,” he said in undertones, so the others couldn’t hear. It was a joke, but also a warning. There was no hint of enmity, though simply prudence. Michael stepped back casually and gave his Brother a sardonic look.

  “Raphael, please,” Michael responded. I flushed so deeply, I felt as though I may have burst a capillary.

  “You seem to have attracted quite the audience, Larin,” Gabriel noted, looking over his shoulder at the gathering vessels. I moaned, turning away. He chuckled and came to stand beside me. “You had better get used to this level of attention, at least until they’ve sated their curiosity utterly,” he said, then looked at me with a strange expression, “or unless fate has brought the Herald to our doorstep at last.”

  “Brothe
r,” Uriel said with more than a hint of anger in his voice, “Let us not feed into rumors and gossip any more than we have already. The assembly was certainly not handled as tactfully as it ought to have been.”

  Michael rounded on him angrily. “Do you question my judgment, Brother?” he snapped.

  “Perhaps,” Uriel retorted, unintimidated. I for one would have withered under the anger of one of the white-winged creatures. As it was, however, I noticed there was something about the four of them when they were together. There was an easiness to their transactions. A complete and total familiarity and comfort.

  I supposed eons of being stuck together would do that to you.

  I blinked, trying to fathom how long an eon was before giving up. I coughed uncomfortably and walked towards Tristan.

  “Hey,” I said, managing a smile, and he returned it.

  “Larin. Do you see over there? It appears one of the young ones is nearly ready,” he pointed at the edge, where a vessel was wobbling, his wings poised awkwardly and unevenly. Two trainers stood on either side, coaching and encouraging him. At least a dozen others lined the cliff, along with two trainers each. I felt my heart in my throat for the young one, could see him trying to summon up his courage before falling backwards in fear, landing on his backside and rolling over due to the unexpected momentum of his wings. I ran forward, instinctively wanting to help.

  “Are you okay?!” I asked as I reached him. He looked up at me, and I saw the terror in his eyes. His trainers grabbed him by either arm, hoisting him up.

  “It will be okay, son,” said a vessel, who was roughly the same age as I in appearance. I wondered how many years he’d actually been on the earth, though. Probably a long time. Beside us, one brave new vessel made the leap, shrieking at the top of her lungs. I gasped, looking over the edge. When she jumped, however, her trainers jumped with her. They, gliding down professionally and gracefully, and she rotating in a rapid, twirling freefall. I held my hands to my face, not sure I could watch. But sure enough, the two straightened out the trainee and redirected her body, the three gliding upwards in an arch away from the mountain. This seemed to be going on quite a bit now, as many jumps were attempted in threes and then the trainees guided back up to the peak by their handlers. It was an incredible sight.