Dark Origins Read online

  He reaches for me; I’m not ready for it.

  He touches my skin again and jerks back as if I’m powerful and he’s powerless, and then his eyes shut briefly, he hangs his head. “More powerful than you will ever know.”

  “What are you saying?” one of his men or brothers ask.

  He locks eyes with me. “She will be my downfall.”

  I recoil.

  He grabs my arm and pulls me against him. “You will break me, human.”

  “I don’t understand.” I gulp. “I just want to save my cousin.”

  He lowers his head, his lips nearly touching mine. “You have started something you cannot end.”

  “What?”

  He sighs. “You will be our end.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you are what we are not,” he says simply. “You are human, you are a crown, we are creation. You are… different.”

  “We are weak,” I say.

  He smiles. “No, the problem is not your weakness; it is your strength, chosen one.” He sets me back on my feet and then whispers. “Show us, what we need to watch, what we need to protect. Show us the girl.”

  “I never said—”

  “—Bannik,” he calls. “Heal the girl.”

  “Are you sure that—”

  “—Heal her now,” I scream. “Before I do something I will never come back from!”

  “Right away.” The man named Bannik, in his gold armor, closes his eyes. They open, and suddenly they go from blue to gold and stay that way. Something rises from his fingertips. “I manifest the healing of the girl who’s ailing, I manifest goodness, strength, she will be well, she will see the wonders of creation, she will”—he falls to his knees—“live. She will live!”

  Gold shoots out of his fingertips down the mountain, and in its wake… flowers grow all the way down to her tent.

  It is done.

  I have done it.

  Warm hands catch me as I fall.

  It was worth it.

  Every moment.

  To be in his arms.

  FOUR

  Sariel

  I catch her.

  She’s freezing. “What do I do?”

  Nobody answers, but my brothers start to move. Bannik is closest to me after healing her cousin, his fingers graze her chin, and I nearly growl, shoving him backward. I don’t understand any of the feelings coursing through me.

  Is this… jealousy?

  I frown at him. He frowns right back, his jaw clenches into a tight expression as he jerks his hand back and stares at it.

  His olive-skinned jaw is trembling, his fingers shaking like he just stuck them in a fire and had every single part of his skin singed, only to heal again.

  “What’s happening?” I ask nobody in particular.

  She stirs in my arms, then jerks back when her eyes lock on mine; her small hands move to my face, and I let her slowly shove back my gold helmet. Nobody has touched my helmet. Ever.

  I’ve touched it once.

  I haven’t moved it since.

  The minute I put it on, I was at war. I was a Watcher.

  And now I am bare to a human woman!

  Her gasp is so loud I can hear armor moving as the rest of my brothers turn their heads toward us in unison.

  Bannik’s smile is sad. “Almost forgot what you looked like, brother.”

  I find myself smiling a bit.

  A hand is still on my cheek as a slow tear runs down her face. “You’re perfect.”

  I jerk away, her hand falls. “Nobody is perfect but the Creator.”

  “Not true.” She has the audacity to argue with me. “You’re a god.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “This is wrong. Blasphemous.”

  “What are you?” She sits up fully in my arms. With Bannik at our side, the rest of my brothers creep forward, watching, curious, probably bored out of their minds but also wondering who the hell has the nerve to approach us after all of these years? After all of the stories?

  “Shouldn’t it be obvious, little human?” Bannik’s laugh is rough around the edges as he shakes his head. “Do you really not know?”

  She’s looking at me, not him.

  I can’t look away.

  I gently set her in the snow, hating that it will make her colder, and stand to my full height. I close my eyes and open them. They blaze white then orange before my wings come out from the slits in my golden armor, shoving them into the sky for the first time in over a thousand years.

  It’s like stretching for the first time.

  They’re every color of the rainbow and then end at a pretty yet lethal white. Each individual feather moves as one and yet can be used to slit someone’s throat, if I will it.

  I’m not just an archangel… I am a warrior.

  She moves to her feet and reaches for my wings.

  “Are you mad?” I jerk back.

  “Are they soft?” She counters.

  I frown. “They can be.”

  “If I take one…” She swallows. “What will it do?”

  Bannik shakes his head slowly at me as if to say not to engage.

  It’s forbidden.

  I know that.

  He knows that.

  But we both also know the secrets of creation are held the way we can wield our powers. If he wanted to, he could add his blood to the tip of the feather and heal the entire city.

  That is the power we have been given.

  Each of us have tasks and jobs that we had back when we were in the heavenliness. I made music, I fought, and I sang with the stars.

  Bannik was given the gift of healing anything the Creator made, any race, including demons.

  My other brothers, the reading of the stars—astrology, wielding metal, knowing the secrets of the mind—calling up the dead. We all have our purpose.

  And right now, it seems I have lost it.

  I look back toward the mountain we’ve been guarding and scowl. What is our purpose? To watch? To constantly watch? And what? What the hell are we watching?

  Anger like I’ve never known spreads through my veins. I control it momentarily as Bannik’s eyes widen. “Brother—”

  “Calm,” Uzza says suddenly. “This has never happened…”

  My white wings go from their pure color to darkness and back again to every color of the rainbow.

  I focus on my purpose, on what I watch. And I quickly prick a feather from my wing and hand it to Bannik. “Do it.”

  He sighs, and then she turns to him, and he loses all ability to say no as he simply slits down his wrist and gathers a drop of purple blood onto the feather and hands it to her. “Tell no one.”

  “They will know,” she says.

  “If you want to live. You won’t tell them. That is the cost of this blood—her healing.” Bannik stands. “Do you accept it, human?”

  “Yes.” Tears run down her cheeks. “Yes.” She grabs the feather; the blood has dried. “Do I just hold it out to her?”

  “Oh human…” Bannik laughs again. “The feather will know exactly what to do. Simply put it in her hand.”

  She nods again and then turns back to me. “What are your names?”

  I grit my teeth. “Too far.”

  She looks afraid suddenly. “What? I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

  “Child,” Uzza finally steps forward into the circle of three. “You cannot fathom the power of calling our names, do not wish death upon yourself; you’ve already done enough damage being in our presence.”

  She nods, tucking the feather into her pack and staring down the large mountain. “I hope I make it in time.”

  Uzza squeezes his eyes shut; when he opens them, they’re a pale white. “She lives.”

  The human looks over her shoulder. “It takes half the time to get down the mountain.”

  A storm suddenly circles overhead as is usual on the mountain.

  Azeel makes a noise in the back of his throat then finally hangs his head. “Take her down t
he mountain, Sariel. We speak of this to no one.”

  I’m gentle as I take her in my arms and slowly take flight within the storm so high nobody can see me.

  It takes me mere minutes to land behind the rock near the village. Seconds to miss her as I set her on her feet, ready to shoot back into the sky, wishing I could stay there for a few hours and simply watch from above with my friends the stars.

  “Wait.” She grabs my wrist and then whispers, “My name.”

  I hold my breath as she gets as close as any human has been to me, chest to chest. “Helena.”

  I don’t dare breathe it, but I do tilt her chin toward me. “Brave, Helena. Why do you not fear me?”

  Tears fill her eyes. “Sometimes, I think I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

  “Impossible,” I whisper. “For a human to see one such as me, in their dreams, though dreams are…” Dare I say it? “They are at times a premonition of what’s to come. “What do you see, Helena?” I should never have asked it.

  Her name is sweet on my lips, like soaring in the air, then diving into the oceans only to come up for my first breath of air, burning my lungs, setting my soul on fire.

  Her eyes twinkle like the stars I no longer hear in her presence. Her laugh makes me smile as she steps up on her tiptoes and beckons me to lean down.

  I have no power.

  I have given it over.

  I lean close to her as she whispers in my ear, “You kiss me.”

  My heart takes off into a million beats—more than I can truly count. My blood sings as my wings start to turn from white to orange and back again, going through numerous colors before I can take a breath.

  I don’t know what to say.

  I know it’s forbidden.

  But surely one touch would be permitted; after all, we’ve broken so many rules this day, so many—what’s one more?

  I would one day understand that this is exactly how the human race fell into temptation, how we followed, how earth has failed.

  By justifying one action with another.

  And by looking away from the one purpose given to you.

  I was to watch.

  And now, I would touch.

  FIVE

  Helena

  He’s as still as the statue I first saw up on that mountain. His lips are so full I ache to touch them, but I also sense danger.

  Along with love, power, lust, anger, jealousy.

  I sense everything I already feel right now as a human—but he’s not, he’s other, and that means that no matter what I dream of at night.

  It must end tonight.

  “Can you make yourself forget?” I ask out loud, his lips so close I can taste him. “If I do something you can’t undo?”

  His frown is both lustful and adorable as he slowly nods his head. “I can force it, yes. The question is, will I want to?”

  “The answer is, you probably should.” I smile.

  He smiles right back, and I’m again struck by how gorgeous he is, my own personal angel who watches me from the mountain and saved my cousin—saved me.

  “Shall I promise you then?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say quickly when I want to say no. “You’ll need to forget, just like I’ll forget the realness of this story but pass it on to my children.”

  His smile falls. “You have children?”

  “I will,” I answer. “That’s our way.”

  His hand moves to my stomach, trembling, and then he touches it. “I wonder, what that is like, to bring life? To create it?”

  “Painful.” I laugh. “I’ve heard it’s painful.”

  Shouts come up behind me. “You should go.” He starts to back away, but before he can fully leave, I grab him by his golden armor as it slightly burns my fingertips, and I kiss him.

  His mouth is still for one brief moment before his lips naturally start moving against mine. I meant it to be a short thank you kiss, but it’s turning into something else entirely as he presses me against the rock, lifting me into his arms; I wrap my legs around his hips.

  He’s perfection.

  He’s no angel.

  He’s something more.

  How does this feel so good?

  His hips move against mine like it’s so natural when I don’t think he’s ever had a kiss before. His mouth is hot; it tastes like cinnamon, then berries. It burns down my chest then cools me off like a splash of cold water.

  His tongue massages mine in a way that feels like it’s meant to be, and I suddenly see fast visions. A war, him fighting, blood, monsters, our village burning to the ground, people dying, and then I see other things, things that make no sense… Witchcraft? Beings that drink blood? More fighting. Gods among men.

  And the word Genesis whispers into my brain.

  He pulls back. “Are you a human?”

  I nod, lips swollen.

  More shouting.

  I can tell he doesn’t want to let me go.

  I want to stay in his arms forever, forever where I’m supposed to live, supposed to stay.

  It’s like being ripped in half as he lowers me to the ground.

  And like a knife to my chest, I press my hand to his, and as tears stream down my face, I whisper, “Forget me.”

  He grips my hands.

  “You must.” I nod. “It’s the way—”

  “—of the Creator.” He finishes gruffly, eyes blazing.

  I nod. “Thank you…” I sigh because I don’t know his name.

  He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Sariel, my name is Sariel.”

  He takes flight in the darkness of the storm, and since I have no time to lose and have already lost it, I run as fast as I can toward my cousin and into our tent.

  My uncle sobs. “We’re losing her! Where have you been? You’re our healer!”

  “No!” I shout, body still trembling because while Sariel can forget me—I will never in my existence forget him. “No,” I say it again, but it’s for me, not her, and I feel selfish. I reach into my pocket and shove the feather into her hand.

  Immediately her eyes snap open; they flood with blue light.

  Her skin returns to normal, her wounds heal, and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes and says, “I miss them.”

  “W-what?” I ask.

  My uncle’s confused.

  I’m confused.

  I shove everyone out of the tent and return to her side. “Who do you miss?”

  “Them.” She points to the top of the tent. “I miss the men at the mountain.”

  “How do you…” I can’t finish my sentence. “You’re having delusions; you’ve had a fever.”

  “No.” Her eyes are still a bright blue and green I imagine they will never change; they will match the men who gave her this gift. “Blood, dear cousin, remembers all.”

  PART TWO

  THE DOWNFALL

  SIX

  Nephal

  She tells me about him.

  She makes up songs about the person who saved both her life and mine—and I fall in love despite my girlish fantasies. Years go by, and as war strikes again, I look to the mountain and whisper the name she was never supposed to share.

  Sariel.

  Sariel.

  Sariel.

  I see something shift in the line of angels on the mountain forever watching, waiting, and then I watch as my cousin falls to the ground in an effort to protect one of her children.

  I’m the new healer of the village, and I try my best, but I have no magical feathers… I have only my hands.

  And once we win—despite a heavy loss—I can’t save her sixteen-year-old boy. Maybe I can’t save anyone. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t inherit my cousins bravery as I stare up at that same mountain.

  Months later, after the second great war, I’m sitting by the fire, and the elder tells me that it’s time.

  Time for my marriage, and it absolutely repulses me. I’ve had several marriage proposals because people think I’m a goddess—my eyes are different
than anyone else’s, filled with a blue that’s unseen around our village.

  I know why.

  And Helena knew why.

  But I promised a blood oath to take it to my death bed as she took it to hers.

  “No.” I get up, and then I look over my shoulder, and out of spite, I say his name again. “Sariel, you are meant for me.” I level my chin. “You’re my fate. Whatever that will mean in the end, it will be ours.”

  I turn around and walk into my tent as purple tears flow down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away, knowing I can’t let anyone else see the gift that has been given.

  One of sight I never wanted.

  And one who knows what will come in the next seven years, where the Watchers will be no more, and I will be his downfall.

  They’re only dreams, I tell myself, but Helena always said dreams can predict your future; after all, she predicted his. Maybe she was a bit of a witch, like everyone said? Or a Priestess?

  I don’t know.

  All I know is that when I close my eyes, I see his face.

  It’s perfect.

  His eyes flash as he looks down at me.

  And when his lips touch mine, I know I will be lost forever.

  SEVEN

  Sariel

  I felt her death in my soul, and then something burned in my chest; it burned bright. I wanted to move, to touch my armor to make sure something hadn’t gone dreadfully wrong.

  Instead, I felt that my heart had sped up again, just like it had with… someone, something I can’t remember, something my brain no, my heart has blocked it.

  A tear slides down my cheek, and I pray for the Creator to stop her suffering, to take her home.

  Instead of watching, I lift my hands toward the heavens for this woman I don’t think I know but feel like I should.

  And my brothers in arms, lift their arms with me as the heavens carry her soul home.

  A brief flash of blue occurs, and I know it is well.

  It is well with my soul.

  And hers is now where it belongs.

  I don’t know why I cry.

  I don’t know why Bannik puts his hand on my shoulder or why Azeel turns away and whispers a breath of a prayer.

  I know I should remember, but all I can see is her face.