• Asmara didn’t know how long they held each other but she did know this: He wasn’t going to live much longer. She clutched at the make shift knife she had crafted out of a stone with her magic. His breath brushed the back of her neck making her hair stand on end. He couldn’t be trusted. A cry stifled in her throat as she raised her armed hand so that her palm rested on his back. He stiffened and she froze, her hand cramping up.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “Just listen.”
    She strained her ears to listen and heard the soft wing falls of maybe a thousand birds in flight. But when she looked up into the trees she didn’t see birds, they were much larger than that. They were Ezekiel’s kin, which meant that her people weren’t too far behind. Dark angels hovered all around them. Ezekiel yanked Asmara up and she dropped her weapon as he soared into the air. She yelped in surprise as the air left her lungs and she reached out to catch her abandoned weapon. It dropped in slow motion, slicing through the air and landed blade first into the soft clay below. It gleamed mockingly. Her hand reached for it even though it was obvious it couldn’t be grasped and it was true. Ezekiel had launched himself into the sky climbing higher and higher into the trees, the knife slipping further and further out of her reach.
    Asmara could hear their pursuers not too far behind them and her heart accelerated. He held her harder against his chest in response and picked up his pace. The dark angels were hard on their heels, their dark coal black, majestic wings stirring the air around them, the trees trembling in their wake.
    She edged slowly to his shoulder to look behind them, but hesitated remembering a lesson her childhood personal trainer had taught her against regulations. It was a lot like telepathy, but more a relative to the source. Instead of unlocking the inner mind in senses any life form nearby. It was a lot like a hearing telepathy with images instead of hearing. The problem was, unlike telepathy it drained loads of energy sometimes enough to kill if the elf using it wasn’t careful in taking precautions.
    Asmara tried it, just as she had so many times practiced with her tutor. Her head lulled to the side from the impact of so many life forms spotted at once. There were at least half a dozen present and they were very close by. Her tutor had warned her to keep in mind one’s limits when using this strategy and power, the impact could turn one’s mind into mush and leave them in a coma and in harms way or the lesser of the two, death. It is always a good idea to have someone nearby to shoulder the burden where there were more than five intelligent life forms present. She struggled to keep in control of her powers, keeping a close eye on the nearest Nephilims.
    The rawness of the wind whipping across her skin was sharp and brought tears to her eyes, her hair blowing wildly around her face. She felt the presence of a dark angel following from above, inching closer at great speed.
    “Ezekiel, look out!” She shouted.
    Ezekiel responded automatically to the warning. He swerved to the right slamming one into the tree, its comrade clamping tightly down onto Ezekiel’s shoulder making Ezekiel swerve a little, but he stayed on track. It smiled with malice and razor like teeth at her. She shivered as the faint presence of a few centuries of hate started to fill her mind. Asmara yelled a battle cry, one of the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard and she felt a sense of pride go through her. She shoved at the hat abomination with such force it lost grip and tumbled downward into one of its brethren.
    Ezekiel regained proper balance, shaking with laughter as he pelted the air with his wings, catapulting them through the air, showing everyone his rising title as king of the night sky and all dark angels. Their pursuers stopped and watched in amazement as Ezekiel dive-bombed and glanced off the ground with gripping claws, so fast that it was a blur. Asmara tucked her head tightly against his chest, a thrill trembling through her body.
    A low raspy voice full of authority drifted through the air toward them. “Your majesty! Stop! We carry news for you. It’s very grim and we have come to bring you back so we can properly tell you. Please sire.” His wings beat unyielding on.
    His kin followed slowly but with little earnest to follow much longer, a sense of foreboding overwhelming them. “You are needed back at the castle. Your father needs you more than ever. Your mother… Our queen is dead, your majesty.”
    Ezekiel’s wing strokes faltered for half a beat, but either in hesitation to turn back for home or shock she wasn’t sure. Then he resumed as if unperturbed, dodging expertly around towering green tree trunks and prickly shrubbery, his speed spurred faster by the urgency of needing to escape.
    Asmara couldn’t hear neighboring wing beats anymore and craned her neck to peak over his shoulder through his flapping wings at the cursed angels. They were now flying in neutral, halfheartedly. She instinctively raised her hand to ward them off in the opposite direction, but thought better of it. She relaxed, leaning back against Ezekiel’s arms and their strong cradling warmth, looking into his face. It was lined with strain and stress. The last thing he needed was more fallen comrades.
    His eyes were a dull gold as he stared straight ahead, trained on their destination. He seemed to feel her eyes on him and looked down into hers loosing his concentration. Her heart jumped into her throat. He quickly looked back up toward wherever they were going. She shivered leaning herself into him and he responded instinctively wrapping his arms more tightly around her, but she just starred blankly off to the side. She was haunted by the look in his eyes. They looked as empty as a bottomless void and held such sadness. She had never seen such sorrow.
    She unconsciously looked back behind them. The vast group of stalking damned beings had slowed to a stop, looking on in horror ahead of them. The very air quieted adding to the eerie feeling in his stomach. She wondered why they had stopped. Had they gotten what they had come for? Was that their goal, to make Ezekiel’s heart eternally bleed? Or were they avoiding something that lay ahead, who Ezekiel too upset, couldn’t sense?

    * * *

    He could hear their heart’s beating mightily in their chests before they even came into view. He pulled Asmara close, locking his arms firmly around her fragile body. He launched himself into the air, feeling the chills ripple through his body in excitement, but he felt heavy, his wings still damp from the pond. He pressed on nevertheless. Asmara screamed out a warning as Nathaniel, an old friend attacked from above. He was always good at the element of surprise, but Asmara was better. She had caught it dead on.
    He swerved just in time to have Nathaniel soar to his right side. Ezekiel smiled slamming himself into him causing him to crash into a tree with bone crushing speed. But another warrior he didn’t know attached himself to his shoulder. Ezekiel tried to shake him, but he had a death hold. He tried to keep balance. If he messed up here Asmara would get the worse of the attack and he didn’t know if they would survive.
    Then Asmara surprised him. A horrifying war cry escaped her pale lips, making his very insides quiver, but at the same time it was a very beautiful sound. She had shot her foe flying in the other direction and he’d probably wake up with a few fractures. Laughter shook his body and he flew on. But even he knew that that didn’t reach his heart. He looked back at his kin and finally realized the full bulk of the group.
    The small group consisted of mostly warriors, but two were seekers, crucial for warfare. They sought out the most powerful magicians on the opposing side. A feeling of uncertainty stirred in his stomach. What were seekers doing here? A voice interrupted his thoughts. It was their elite warrior. He thought he felt his heart freeze over. His mother was dead? He felt like sinking to the ground letting his people overpower him, but then he remembered that he had someone to protect. He glanced quickly down at Asmara. She was looking behind them horrified, her ghostlike hair blowing softly in the breeze as he flew. He had to get her out of there safely.
    He pulled his wings tightly behind him and swooped into a dive descending down to the earth with colossal speed and shot off with twice the amount of speed. He sighed in relief when sunlight illuminated from ahead. They were almost out of the forest and he could hear the gurgle of a rushing river. His heart sank. Water. He shook away the fear and pressed on. Asmara gasped in confusion under him and he looked behind him.
    They had stopped. He felt as confused as Asmara was worried. Why weren’t they following him anymore? He looked back at the river that he was approaching fast and his throat clenched in surprise. Vanlanthiriel River. There in the water was a mermaid smiling up at him, deadly rapids racing past her. But she did even notice, she was strong enough to be unfazed by rapids that would normally kill anyone else. She reached up a pale arm brushing his ankle and taking hold of it with a deadly grasp, pulling him down to the water. Asmara screamed from his back and the mermaid frowned up at them. So that's why they stopped... he thought as he lost consciousness.
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