Dark Origins Page 4

  I feel her find her pleasure in her next scream and follow suit—and I know, even though I will return to the mountain. I will be back, again, again, and again.

  Even if it means my doom.

  TEN

  Nephal

  He worships me with his mouth in every way possible. He comes to me every night, and sometimes in the mornings, and then leaves, always taking a part of me with him.

  I touch my stomach. I don’t have the heart to tell him just yet, not because he won’t be excited but because after getting to know this man, this love of my life, I can’t imagine what the cost will be, to him, to us, to our family.

  He says his brothers don’t approve, that this is a sin, but how can the love I share with Sariel be a sin? I want to spend my life with him. I want to create a family and watch our children grow side by side. I want them to sit by the fire while the elder spins stories of old wars and gods.

  I can sense him in the air whenever he’s near, the village has started to ignore his frequent visits, and because of said visits, no war has threatened us. Far and wide, people talk about the giants that watch over us—and the one who holds a human in his heart.

  After the Watchers helped us win the last battle, we’ve been at peace, and the rest of the village looks to him as if he is the reason for it.

  I know he’s the reason for mine.

  They’ve tried to offer him food, gifts, even going as far as to attempt to touch him or fall at his feet—it’s the only time I ever truly see him angry as he points to the sky and demands they worship the creators, not their creation.

  I asked him about it once, and he said he was like me, only different.

  “Humans, you see”—he opened his palm as colors swirled around it—“were created to be every single part of the creators… every sex, every color, every personality, every part of what makes the creators who they are. Angels,”—he closed his palm— “we were created for worship, for battle, for watching, and as messengers. We were not created for…” He frowned as his skin paled. “We were not created for relationships.”

  “That’s sad,” I said quickly. “When it seems like that’s something you need and crave.”

  “The only relationship we should have should be with the creation and the creators who built it.” He turned away then. “I should go.”

  “No.” I clung to him. “Please, please, stay.”

  “Downfall,” he whispered. “Both a compliment and a curse.”

  Our mouths met in a frenzy as he ripped my clothes from my body and pushed me down onto the furs, my legs tangled with his in a blur of love and need. I pulled his hair, tugging his body tighter against mine, knowing nothing would ever feel as good as him against me as his wings shot out and burned bright reds and oranges as they enveloped me around him in a tight embrace.

  “Everything,” he said against my mouth. “I give to you.”

  “Everything,” I said back. “I shall take.”

  “Nephal?” I hear his voice jolting me out of my memory and open the flap of my tent. He is walking toward me. People are trying to ignore him, knowing full well he’s coming to my tent to both talk to me and make love to me.

  “Here.” I smile at him.

  His smile is wider now—huge, actually. Perfectly straight white teeth appear against his olive skin and dark hair; his eyes go from blue to white and back again before he pulls me into his arms and kisses me.

  I ignore the fact that people are watching. I don’t really care anymore as this giant of a man holds me midair kissing me senseless.

  Let them see. What can they do to this sort of being?

  Throw rocks at him?

  They worship him anyway, though I agree they shouldn’t; it is hard not to when you look upon his face.

  I would one day understand the reason.

  I would one day understand his curse.

  He carries me into my tent. His helmet is already thrown off with one of his hands as his mouth continues to devour mine, and then he pulls back and sits, holding me in his lap. “Are you well today, my Nephal?”

  I smile; he could easily make love to me every hour of the day. Instead, he chooses to always talk to me first.

  I love him more for it.

  With a smile, I cup his cheeks. “Busy, and yours?”

  “Oh.” He rolls his eyes. “Positively bristling with excitement.”

  I burst out laughing. “Oh really?”

  “Yes.” He adjusts me on his lap. “I counted the clouds, then got bored and decided to count how many birds flew by, and then, I decided to watch you and your day; it was a better decision, I think.”

  “Me?” I laugh. “I’m boring.”

  “Never.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “You do so well with your healing, and you treat the village children so carefully. I’m so proud of you.”

  Tears well in my eyes at the mention of children. I touch my stomach on instinct; he looks down, then back up, then back down.

  Carefully he rests his hand against mine, slowly I slip them away, so it’s his palm against my stomach, feeling his child.

  His eyes blaze white as he touches then recoils.

  It wasn’t what I expected.

  I didn’t imagine an angel would go into shock discovering he was a father. I quickly try to move off his lap, only to have him pull me against his chest so hard it’s almost painful. “Is this true? Do I feel my son’s heartbeat? Impossible, I am not human!”

  “Son?” I ask with tears in my eyes. “It’s a boy?”

  With a gasp, he pulls his hand back. “He must… not be born.”

  I jerk away from him. “How could you say that? This child was conceived in love?”

  “This child”— he shakes his head in sadness, in rage, confusion—“will be hated… scorned, constantly surrounded by darkness.”

  “Darkness?”

  “I see it! He will never experience true joy or contentment, constantly pulled between two planes, between immortals and mortals alike. He will know division and darkness. The darkness and cruelty of the human race will be his lover, his companion. I cannot allow him to be born. My love for him, for you, is what guides this.”

  “Never!” I shout, tears streaming down my face. “If you touch me, I’ll, I’ll kill you!”

  “Nephal—”

  “Go away!”

  He sighs, tears streaming down his cheeks. I want to reach out, but how could he say such things about an innocent child?

  Sighing, Sariel does just as I ask. He picks up his armor and looks over his shoulder, expression heartbroken.

  But what about me?

  What about a mother raising her son alone all because the man who claims to love her doesn’t want the child? Or thinks he will be born in darkness. How can children be dark when born out of light?

  I cry myself to sleep, heart breaking, and vow to never look at the mountain again.

  ELEVEN

  Sariel

  I cry.

  I don’t remember ever truly crying like this, where my cheeks are constantly wet, my lips constantly trembling as I see his face in my mind’s eye as I know the future he has… all because I looked away from my purpose.

  All because I fell in love with his mother.

  I love her still. I watch her still. I watch over them the best way I know how—after all, that is my purpose, is it not? To be still and watch?

  After reprimanding me, my brothers don’t speak to me often, but I know they sense my despair as a few tears run down their cheeks every so often, only to turn to the very ice we stand on and break.

  Is this truly our destiny?

  I am now questioning everything about my existence to the point of wanting to fall, which is not a thought that should ever occur!

  Months go by. She rubs her stomach often as she grows heavy with child; she feeds the babe well as she eats and drinks. But she never looks up at the mountain—at me.

  Every day is like experiencing a sword across
my heart stealing my soul with it, but I am the one who left.

  I am the one who will have to do the hard thing.

  I grip my sword when I hear her scream

  Everyone rushes to her tent.

  My knuckles go white as I wait, holding my breath.

  Minutes turn to hours.

  And then a loud wail is heard.

  I almost fall to my knees.

  He is alive.

  He is well.

  I have at least given her these few minutes with this child, and now I must go and do what is right.

  Tears continue to fall as I walk. I don’t ask him, but Bannik comes with me as we trek down the mountain and near her tent.

  Both of our swords are pulled.

  This is my fault.

  This is my fault.

  His darkness will forever be my fault. What sort of life will I leave him? What sort of suffering when nothing has been born like this—ever?

  I enter the tent and lock eyes first on my child and then on Nephal. The child wails a bit more then quiets.

  He looks exactly like me with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He’s half, you can tell in the golden swirl of his skin and the way he still needs his mother but looks ready to take over the world as a warrior. His hands touch her skin, and immediately she cools.

  Gifts. How has the darkness been given gifts?

  Bannik tenses next to me and then utters, “I cannot kill our flesh.”

  “He is…” I swallow down my emotions as best I can. “He is part of us.”

  I fall to my knees next to Nephal and kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

  “He’s beautiful.” She looks up at me, sweat covering her forehead though she felt cool. “He’s beautiful like his father.”

  I kiss her mouth as Bannik looks on.

  The moment is soon broken when a great thunder sounds. It’s not coming from my brothers nor the mountain.

  Bannik sighs. His eyes are heavy; I feel the sad beat of his heart. “They’re here…” His way of saying.

  The heavens know.

  I stand to my full height, wondering if this means war, wondering if this means condemnation, death, but knowing I will protect my son as is my duty regardless of what rights I have.

  As if the sun has fallen to the earth, a legion of angels land in the middle of the village, shining bright with gold and silver armor. The archangels join the first part of the ranks. I look away from Gabriel, just like I cannot bear to lock eyes with Uriel.

  My brothers now know both my pride and my shame, for I am now fallen.

  The rest of the angelic fleet fans out around the tent, golden swords in hand, ready for battle. The two hundred of us are no match for the heavenly guard, and yet my brothers, all one hundred and ninety-eight of them, begin to march down the mountain to stand by my side.

  I know they feel my pain as if it is their own.

  I know they truly do not have a choice now.

  Because I made mine, they now must stand alongside me, even if that means being cast out forever.

  It is their last march.

  It will be our death. I feel pride that they march down when they could have easily kept watch of the mountain and looked away as we’ve done so many years before.

  But today, they march for me.

  They march for my son.

  Nephal is attempting to stumble out of the tent. I wrap an arm around her protectively while hovering over our child.

  “Cassius,” I whisper. “We will name him Cassius.”

  Nephal nods, tears stream down her face.

  “Creation is forbidden,” Uriel says in a booming voice. “What, dear brother, have you done?”

  Bannik stands tall at my side, hand on his sword.

  Uriel holds out his hands. “We did not come to fight. We refuse to fight our own blood. We came to pass judgment, but what are we to do with a young child? Innocent in ways of the world? Innocent in ways of humanity and immortals alike?”

  I stand to my full height. “I could not…” I lose my voice and try again. “This is my sin, but I cannot punish him for it. I could not. Nor will I.”

  “Nor would it be asked of you,” Uriel fires back, his eyes blazing like fire. “Children will always be protected…” He sighs. “But this child or any born in this way will forever be cursed.” Uriel’s blazing eyes deepen to black. “He will carry a darkness, and every day it will try to consume him over and over again. If he gives in, he will be killed. We will have no choice, for he has the knowledge of the heavens and the power to command at will. If he gives in to the darkness, there will be no saving him from himself, for he will be pure evil.”

  Cassius begins crying in his mother’s arms.

  I nod. “And if I train him?”

  “Your punishment,” Uriel says in a low voice as he takes a menacing step toward me. “Your curse… is that you will always carry the weight of his decisions. Sariel, we leave you twelve brothers to help you keep the immortals and humans in balance. Now that you have mixed the blood, we are no longer at peace.” The wind swirls, nasty and angry. “But brother, a lifetime of war. Between the races. Between each other, for you have created, and that is beyond our realm. It is forbidden.”

  Lightning flashes as I walk away from the tent.

  Two thousand angels stand, ready to fight as fire strikes down from the sky, destroying the mountain where my brothers and I watch.

  A deep sadness rips through me as all but twelve of my brothers are instantly commanded to sleep by Uriel and fall to the ground where they stand.

  “They will slumber,” Uriel commands, “until their penance is paid. As for the rest of you.” He points at the twelve remaining brothers, including Bannik, Azeel, Gadreel, and spreads his hands wide. “Do not fail again.”

  In another loud clap of thunder, the angels return to Heaven.

  All but one.

  He’s small, like a child, possibly ten or twelve, but I know what is happening even if Nephal does not.

  Slowly, the child takes a step toward me. He holds out his hands and grasps mine in his.

  “We give second chances.” He smiles at me and nods. “To our creation. Besides, nothing is truly a surprise to us, now is it?”

  The child smiles brightly like that of a star shining in the sky, sucking the breath from the very air around me.

  My wings shove out of my back; they are not black as I assumed but still white. I am still an archangel even though I am punished. I do not know how to respond to this. “Your brothers will not slumber forever. And you will need the strength and knowledge of the heavens for the darkness that is coming.” He spreads his hands again. “Remember, where there is darkness…” His voice lowers to a whisper. “There is also great light.”

  The child, one of the forms of the creators, turns to the tent and slowly walks in. I hold my breath as he leans over Cassius and whispers something I cannot hear, and then presses his hand to Nephal’s forehead.

  Her eyes burn a brighter blue and her skin returns to its normal color.

  He has just healed her from the birth. I no longer smell blood but the smell of flowers and fresh grasses from the fields.

  “Immortality,” the Creator whispers, “will be a gift given to his mother so she can look after her son.” He stands. “The very first Dark One has been born.”

  TWELVE

  Nephal

  “Go away from here.” The small child stands up after healing me. “You may stay with her for seventy-seven days—after that, she will always be provided for. What happens during those seventy-seven days is all up to you but when they are over.” He looks at Sariel, eyes burning. “You will continue on with your original purpose.”

  “Yes.” Sariel nods. “I will.”

  “I say this because I love you, Sariel—but there are things even my angels do not understand or know, things that can tip this world into self-destruction so severe that entire populations will be wiped out—do not be the reason for that, my son.
Be the solution. Protect them as I protect you—and show your son the way so that when darkness comes—he looks to the light.”

  He walks out of the tent like any normal-looking child and then slowly turns into a man with dark skin and long braids; he pulls out two swords and slings them to the sides causing dust to rise up.

  And then he simply disappears.

  “W-who was that?” I ask.

  “That,” Sariel whispers, “is who you worship.”

  “We must go.” Sariel packs up my tent, all of the belongings that I have, and carries them, then pulls me into his arms and presses his hand to Cassius’s forehead.

  I have no time to think as he walks outside, our village all stunned into silence, and approaches the twelve remaining brothers. “I’ll stay with her until the days are through and then join you.”

  One of the angels is still standing there, the one that spoke all about destruction and seemed angry at Sariel. He speaks with authority. “Go to the twelve points of the earth and guard them until your punishment is through. The rest of your brothers I will take care of.”

  “Where will you take them?” Sariel asks. “Or will they merely sleep where they lay?”

  Uriel hangs his head. “They will sleep… in the Abyss.”

  Gasps go up around the twelve brothers, but nobody says anything as the bodies slowly disappear, as does Uriel.

  It isn’t until Sariel and I make it to the next village that I ask, “What is the Abyss.”

  He pauses and then. “It is nothingness.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It is simply nothing. You exist, and yet you do not; it is an entrapment of sorts. In the future, people will talk about how gods live in the Abyss, how the Titans have been trapped there for centuries when it is merely my brothers sleeping, they will wake up one day as if a minute has passed.”

  “Will they suffer?” I ask.

  He closes his eyes. “When they wake—they will be judged.”

  “And you?” Tears form and start to trail down my cheeks.

  “My punishment was already given.” He grits his teeth. “A lifetime where I cannot be with the one I love more than seventy-seven days, where I will constantly pray my son does not go dark—where I will know the love that I have for you and for him but never experience it the human way I dreamt of. It was wrong, however, to hope for so much when you know the outcome of your choices.”