Herald

by J Edwards Stone

  I was looking down, forgetting the great height as I was enraptured by the sights going on around me.

  “So, what’s it gonna be, Larin?” asked Chase from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and lifted my eyebrows at him.

  “In your dreams,” I managed, but couldn’t help but smile at his impish expression.

  Michael had been speaking with Gabriel and the other archangels, momentarily distracted.

  He looked up and met my eyes, smiling. Just as he did, I heard another voice beside me.

  “So, dare to dream,” said Iris, kicking me from behind.

  I fell.

  I couldn’t make sense of what was happening at first.

  The rush of air passing by me was so unfamiliar, so contrary to any rational sensation I’d ever experienced, that I couldn’t process that I was barrelling toward the ground at an unimaginable speed.

  I was facing the sky, the wind cutting sharply past me as the force of it pushed my wings straight upwards, as though pointing at the sun of their own volition. The top of the cliff was quickly disappearing from view, and I was still too shocked to feel anything other than confusion.

  I noticed several black wings leaping off the edge as it disappeared further and further from view, and one large span of white flash into the sky and race downwards towards me, the shock of black hair still visible although it was quickly dissipating into a pinpoint.

  Michael.

  I opened my eyes wide, coming to my senses. He would not reach me in time.

  Instinct took over. I closed one wing, using all of my might against the push of the wind to force my body around to face the ground. It worked, but I flipped more violently than I expected, and my wing reopened. Both wings stretched straight up behind me, the current too strong to manipulate them. I closed my eyes anyway and tried, forcing them down with all my might. Slowly but surely, they began to level out to the rest of my body, although unevenly, and the current forced me into a spiral much like the girl who took her first leap moments before. I screamed and opened one wing alone, imagining being back at the beach with Kaila.

  Her family let us go out in the canoe. I remember Kaila putting the paddle in the water, changing the direction of the boat, forcing the current to make it move us. I imagined my wing to be the same, steering my body as I would a boat upon the water. The airflow was much the same, and I made it the same in my mind’s eye. It worked.

  I straightened out again and forced my wings to stay level this time. The air current below resisted against them, and suddenly my descent slowed, as though sails catching the wind. I tilted my torso upwards and swooped up in a great whoosh, arching my body and finding my wings responding. I flapped them experimentally, the force of it surprising me at first, and then I did it again, and again. I was zigzagging in dizzying fashion, but I was flying. I was actually flying.

  I suddenly found my stride, like the moment a child realizes they can ride a bike without the hands of their parents to hold them upward. I flapped my wings forcibly, flying straight upwards. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe the sheer, unadulterated power that my wings lent me.

  I’d never felt so alive in my entire life as a human. As a vessel, I felt like I’d not only be transformed but now. . . I was completely remade.

  I couldn’t stop smiling and spiralled upward and upward still until I suddenly broke through the cloud cover. The light from the sun was radiant up here. Blinding. It warmed me and fed me, giving me strength. I closed my eyes, my wings moving to keep me stationary so I could absorb every precious ray. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Nothing.

  I opened my eyes and found I was face to face with Michael.

  He was staring at me with a look of pure wonder, and something more. I smiled a brilliant smile at him, feeling incredible joy at that moment. He came closer, pausing inches from my face. He shook his head slowly, a small smile growing larger and larger. His black eyes shone as though they had witnessed a great miracle.

  “Herald,” he whispered, as the other archangels arrived behind him, their faces blank with shock. Gabriel and Raphael’s expressions melted into similar looks of awe and wonder. Even Uriel couldn’t seem to contain his emotions and stared at me openly in a way I could only describe as hopeful. Tristan hovered beyond with two others who had thought initially they were coming to my rescue. They were watching me, Tristan too, with expressions of shock and confusion. I absently noticed Chase behind him, strands of his red hair flying in the wind as though on fire. I didn’t look at his face, but I could sense his awe. However, I found could only stare back at Michael, as he looked into my eyes with a strange fierceness, feeling tears running down my face. I didn’t care about anything other than this moment of freedom.

  Herald or no. . . I was reborn.

  We descended from the clouds towards the launching grounds. All the vessels, hundreds now at least, lined the cliff. I could hear the cheers as we descended towards them, and I looked over my shoulder at Michael, finding him matching the speed of my descent. I tried to smile at him reassuringly, feeling strangely somehow that he was the one who needed it. His eyes lit up when they met mine, and he flew closer, reaching out and grasping my hand, giving it a squeeze.

  “Can you manage?” he mouthed, wondering at my abilities. I nodded, feeling I could. He shook his head and smiled again, giving me some space to use my newfound abilities and descend unassisted.

  I could hear the chanting from far away.

  “Herald! Herald! Herald!” the crowd cried, continuing to amass on the cliffside. I could see leaping, arms thrown into the air in our direction, wings splayed like fingertips itching to meet us.

  I was so happy to have found my wings, my ability to fly. I thought it was the only thing I had room for in my heart at that moment, but the closer we approached, the more reality began an insistent pecking at my happiness. The pecking evolved into a throbbing sensation, reminding me forcibly there were still questions without answers. I felt creeping claustrophobia threaten to rise, still unused to such crowds as I was and fearing suddenly to become overwhelmed. I swallowed roughly, ceasing my descent, though the crowd cheered on.

  “My lords,” Tristan said behind us, addressing the Council angels, “the vessels will be expecting your command.” It was both a statement and a warning.

  Michael stopped with me, still holding my hand. He reached over touched my chin with one hand, an intimate action I had not anticipated. My heart froze, and I hastily reminded my wings to continue to flap, lest I descend again in freefall.

  “Larin,” he said, looking into my eyes. “You need not fear. We will protect you.”

  I looked over his shoulder and saw the other archangels waiting, looking all as though they’d witnessed something that had shaken them utterly. It was the first time I had seen them look unsure, their usual aura of confidence and self-assuredness in their purpose at a standstill. I looked at Gabriel and could see in his eyes the thoughts running through his mind. Raphael was smiling at me, as I had grown used to, and he threw back his head and laughed. The action was so unexpected, so full of surprised glee, that I felt I wanted to share in it. We all stared at him, and for one moment I found his joy contagious, and I smiled at him.

  I looked forward, still smiling, and my eyes fell upon Uriel. He was not laughing. In fact, he had no expression at all and had said nothing since finding me in the sky.

  I took a deep breath, knowing I could not postpone the inevitable, and held Michael’s hand in a death grip. He squeezed it again, gently but firmly, his warmth radiating up my arms.

  “Brother!” shouted Uriel to Michael, suddenly coming in front of our path. “We need to confer amongst ourselves before any public declaration!”

  Michael stopped, a look of annoyance flashing upon his face. I felt he was about to argue, but he was also a creature of great wisdom and experience. He was considering how to proceed, and I was watching his expression closely to try to get my emotions to follow his lead.
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  “Brother, it is true. Let us discuss the matter privately before calling assembly,” said Gabriel, looking severely at Michael.

  “I agree,” Raphael said, despite his earlier yelps of joy. He had regained his senses and was eyeing the masses below. “It would not be wise to give false hope to those below. They are young, mostly, and amenable to accepting certain truths. This”—and I know he meant me— “may not be the Herald.” He looked at me almost apologetically. I could see he desperately wanted to believe, but the long years of his life were tempering the desire to launch into a public declaration that I was the seraphim Herald, come at last.

  “Brother, you jest, surely!” Michael laughed. “Did you not see? Never has a maiden flight been accomplished without tremendous assistance. She’d had no training, no instruction. Along with the lack of sickness, the command -”

  “Michael,” said Gabriel, interrupting him. “We must be wise.”

  Michael nodded suddenly. I was surprised, considering the strength of his words before. The conviction. I met his eyes and I saw he still believed, but good sense prevailed. I nodded at him, agreeing with his brothers. Michael sighed, looking downwards.

  “Let us make a statement, then retire to the war room,” he said, flying ahead. His decision was rendered.

  As we came near the landing site, the crowd separated to allow us space. We touched down, and I wobbled slightly upon touching the ground, having never done so independently. Michael reached out and steadied me. I looked at him nervously, but upon meeting his eyes I felt some of my fear melt away. I knew, somehow, that I was safe with him.

  The archangels touched down, and Gabriel strode forward, raising a hand in the air to silence the cheers. Everyone stopped, and there was silence. Then the crowd erupted, shouting questions, demanding instructions on how to proceed.

  “Silence,” said Michael quietly. The crowd again stopped, looking at him expectantly.

  Raphael and Uriel stood behind him, respectfully, deferring to their leader. Michael met Gabriel’s eye, and they nodded at each other.

  Michael took a breath, straightening himself back into his normal confident stature of strength and self-assurance. He was about to speak, then stopped. He searched the crowd angrily, and I felt the front rows recoil slightly in fear of his expression.

  “IRIS!” he shouted.

  There was a shuffle and a parting of the crowd. Iris walked forward to the clearing, her cropped head bowed respectfully. Only a slight tremble in her fingers belied her fear at what was to come.

  “My lords,” she whispered, keeping her head bowed. She looked up suddenly at me, directly, expressionless.

  “Herald,” she said, “I’m. . .it wasn’t my intention. . . I . . .” She fumbled over the words.

  “It’s true, I was hostile towards you following Patrick’s sacrifice. But I knew you would be rescued. I would have gone after you myself if I hadn’t been pushed out of the way,” she said, looking accusingly at Tristan. Her eyes held betrayal, and Tristan met them, saying nothing.

  “I had no idea, meant no real harm,” she finished, the last sentence shakily lingering in the air.

  “Take her away,” snapped Michael to Tristan, ignoring Iris’s words. Tristan frowned at Michael but followed his General’s command. He snapped his fingers and three vessels, armed with spears, strode forward and grasped her by the arms.

  “Wait,” I started, surprising myself. Michael looked at me in warning. Despite any feelings I may have had regarding Iris’ actions, this was Council business now and I was not to interfere. I understood and looked down respectfully. There was a soft murmur among the crowd as one of their greatest warriors was led away in shame.

  “Silence,” said Michael again, and the crowd hushed as the vessels looked at him expectantly. I felt the pressure of the stares of others upon me, almost poking me in their forcefulness. I had no idea what I was, truthfully – Herald, vessel, mutant. . . but I was not willing to discount anything after the events of late. My mind churned with questions, possibilities, and above all, fear. If I gave in to them, I felt a terror rising in my chest, threatening to choke me. The implications for being the potential Herald to the greatest order of angels to ever exist were not yet within my mind’s ability to grasp.

  “You have all witnessed a great miracle, of that there is no doubt,” Michael said in carefully measured tones. He glanced at me quickly. I could feel his gaze, but continued staring downward, afraid my face would betray my uncertainty and fear.

  Michael continued. “We do not deny the possibility that Larin is the Herald. Of this, we already made you aware at the earlier assembly. However, my brothers and I must counsel further in light of this new development. Our responsibility is not just to Larin,” he paused and let his words sink in. “Our responsibility is to all of you, our wards. Your safety, comfort, and peace of mind are paramount to us, so we beg of you not to leap to conclusions at this time.”

  He looked around meaningfully at all the faces he could take in. Palpable anxiety was mingled with expectation emanating from the crowd. I understood the need to handle it carefully, and I continued to try to quell my turmoil.

  “We will make an address shortly. You will all be informed. In the interim, I instruct you all to go about your business, to train, to rest, and to develop your skills. That will be all for now. Disperse.”

  The crowd obeyed Michael and turned around, many leaping into the air to resume whatever prior engagement had their attention before the distraction caused by the rumor of the Herald’s flight. Others who had not yet commanded their wings to obey the signals from their body, too freshly awakened or too young, turned awkwardly and made their way towards the path to the valley. I could hear the flight trainers shout to their wards, instructing them to assume their prior positions.

  I felt a deep sense of hopefulness, and I looked at the young ones as they stepped up to the edge, a strange new confidence in some to make the leap.

  I turned towards the Council, looking up and into the eyes of each of their faces. Gabriel,

  Uriel and Raphael looked at me, all blankly. Considering.

  Michael however, looked at me with hope.

  * * * * *

  Once the crowd had dissipated, Gabriel and Uriel leapt up into the air, flying back towards the Great Hall and to the war room. Raphael lingered, waiting until the last of the vessels had taken their leave, many looking over their shoulders reluctantly as they departed. They were all wishing to stay, to listen in on the words of their leaders in light of these new developments. Their curiosity was palpable. I understood it. I would have felt the same.

  As the last left earshot, Raphael turned and looked at me appraisingly. I suddenly felt shy, unsure of what to do.

  Michael watched Raphael, frowning, as he regarded me. I felt again as I did that moment in the hall, a piece of livestock to be regarded for value before the sale. But as I looked back at him, fleetingly, I saw no malevolence. Just curiosity and concern.

  Michael and took a sharp breath, turning to me.

  “We are away to the war room now, for counsel. Are you able to use your wings, or shall we walk down the mountain together?”

  I faltered, and felt my wings raise themselves as though insulted, their capability questioned. I forced them down and flapped them experimentally.

  “I’m not sure, I could try,” I ventured.

  “It is much more difficult to take off from a flat surface. vessels who learn flight use the cliff, utilizing the downward momentum and glide with the aid of the others who teach them. To take off from standing requires considerable strength. You must focus the muscles in your chest in addition to your shoulders -”

  “Brother,” Raphael interrupted in quiet tones. We both looked at him.

  “I am uncertain of the nature of your relationship at this time, I admit,” he said, looking back and forth between us. He appeared perplexed, his normal good humor hidden under his concern. “I must ask that you both use
some discretion going forward.”

  Michael walked forward to Raphael, and I realized he was angry. He came face to face with his brother, his eyes flashing.

  “You know nothing of what you speak. There is no ‘relationship,’” he said, “I am merely ensuring the comfort and safety of the one who may, in fact, be the Herald we have waited for -”

  Raphael cut him off shortly. “Michael, we will have words later. I have said my piece. For now, we must meet the others.” He turned to me and I looked down hastily, my face flaming. Michael’s words had hurt me, though I didn’t understand why. Of course, what he said must have been true. His interest was purely clinical. I was the potential Herald, and thus I needed special attention in his eyes. Nothing more. I found I couldn’t look at him, but my heart thrummed in my chest, and my face continued to burn with embarrassment.

  Raphael regarded me briefly. I could feel his stare but refused to meet his eyes.

  “Larin,” he said, “be strong. We will speak further later.” And with that, he took off, the white of his wings flashing briefly in my peripheral vision. I reluctantly turned and looked at Michael. His face was stone, unflinching.

  He walked forward a few steps, and stopped, turning to me.

  “Let us walk for a moment,” he said. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. I felt awash in confusion. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I walked forward.

  We made our way slowly down the path. Michael said nothing at first, and I occasionally stole glances in his direction, but his face was unreadable. I could see he was deep in thought, and I didn’t want to interrupt him. I knew I felt something within me, something about Michael that spoke to a deep piece inside that had been dormant in my human life. As a vessel, though, I found my thoughts and emotions were in a state of constant turmoil, struggling against the remnants of humanity and the newness of the life I was thrust into. I thought briefly to what Tristan said about how vessels matured quickly, and I realized it was true – my transformation had been not just of my body, but of my mind. In that moment, I felt a very old soul.