Pitter, patter, patter, pitter.
Grumble, rumble.
Boom.
She rolled the sounds in her head. Let them dance in her empty head.
She liked the sounds. It played like music. Stumbling, and halting. Interrupted by crashes of thunder. But honest as it ran head-first into the next peak.
Huddled in her dripping barrel. She watched the drops splatter on the floor. Collect in crevices. To form streams that carved through filth and trash. Building to rivers that flooded through the streets. Their currents speckled under the lightning’s occasional flash.
The water rushed and danced with the roaring winds. Scoring filth caked onto ancient stones. Taking trash, mice and shoddy shacks in their wake. Spirits fury, people called it. A storm strong enough to pierce the city’s defense.
When the unseen ones came down. To wreak havoc on the land and its its people. But she wasn’t afraid. For the first time in her life, the air felt clean.
They were here to play. She tasted the air. Joy, longing. love. Wind followed rain. One last game before the cities’ rivers. Took their friend, to the ocean far away.
They filled the world with halting laughter. The shapes felt but never seen. Spirits, they were everything she’d dreamed of.
Pitter. patter, patter pitter.
People found them frightening. She’d heard so many stories of the havoc their games brought. It was so silly. Two had heard other stores.. About the cursed and the damned. How they tainted the world with their breath. That there was something wrong about her.
She stepped out of her leaky barrel.
In moments the rain soaked her. The wind tore at her clothes. She smiled and stared at the flickering clouds. Warm droplets carried from the world outside the walls to fall against her skin.
She closed her eyes. She could feel them. Wind swam through her curled fingers. Tied knots in her soaked hair. She smiled. A spray of water splashed into her face. She laughed.
People said. They dragged unlucky souls into the sky. Or drowned them in rushing currents. The dead made to join the madness.
She threw her arms open and laughed, at the dark clouds. “Take me!” What would they be like up close? Usually so fluffy and white like the purest sugar. Could she touch them?
The wind strengthened into rushing coils. Giggles echoed at the edge of her hearing. She joined. She drank their joy. The currents pulled, her feet left the ground. For the kingdom in the sky.
Maybe she’d die. Chilled by the winds so high above. She wasn’t afraid. Her smile never left. She didn’t care. She just wanted to be gone.
Away from all the people, and their judging eyes, cruel stories. The wind didn’t pity her. The water didn’t hate. The droplets simply wished her well as they rolled down her skin.
She was tired, but the gusts buoyed her aloft with cheer. Higher and higher, into the roiling sky.
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Then iron fingers sized her foot. She spun around. A bolt of lightning illuminated a face flecked with earthy scales. A pair of sharp yellow eyes glowed in the lightings light They pierced into her.
“How did you meet Daisy” words snapped her to the present.
“What,”
Igni blinked down at her, “I asked how you met Daisy. If it’s personal you don’t have to answer.
Two shook herself free of last night’s nightmare and the night before that. “She pulled me out of a storm.” He glanced at her, blinking slowly. She blinked back. He smiled with interest.
She suppresses the sudden need to elaborate. Here she was playing guide yet she could scarcely meet his eyes.
The governor’s ‘request’ was simple. Walk around the lead Igni around the city. Answer his questions.
On one hand, Two now had more money than she knew what to do with. She’d been lent a house to stay in until she settled. She was being paid. It was probably the first honest money she’d ever made.
On the other hand. She understood that requests from people who owned your houses, bank and based on Leandra’s display, could kill you with a glare. Had implications no matter how polite the servant repeating them.
At least she had good company until the inevitable happened. She frowned at the errant thought. Getting attached to Igni wouldn’t help her. She needed to learn her new position, first. Hopefully, it was one without noble attention.
She glared at a woman pointing their baby at Igni. Then hissed when she didn’t get the message. Their eyes met, they flinched. Two had no interest in standing around for hours. While everyone and their potted plant found a reason to waste their time. Once had been enough. No matter how much fun he’d had with that florist.
She led Igni away. Keeping a wary eye on the crowd. Gazes flowed past her and her pale blue robe like oil over water. It was a relief. Yesterday she’d worn her usual cloak. People had noticed the pauper.
Their attention was fixed on the winged monolith behind her. Awe curiosity wonder. The emotions were ubiquitous wherever they went. In the most unified sentiment she’d tasted. It would have been overwhelming, if not blunted by Igni’s immaterial mist.
Instead, it was merely amusing. To what sparks of fear and shame bloom. Children cast conspiratorial glances at their elders. Passerby’s stood straighter. Merchants reconsidered their prices. Truly angels were divine.
And Igni, he watched them with equal curiosity. Question after question, was launched at Two.
“Who makes the art?” gestured at the buildings around them. Apartments of all sizes sprouted around them. Separated by sweeping cobbled lanes. Bright green green grass Filled the open space. Chairs and little pagodas dotted the green. It was one of the rich neighborhoods. It was strange to think she lived somewhere better.
“Do you mean the windows” She pointed at a window. Four small carvings of buffalo stood together behind it.
“Yes,” he smiled. Two blinked and turned away. Maybe not looking would help.
“The sculptures represent the residents. It’s to pay respect to their primaeval ancestors.” She gestured to another window with mice. A small head poked over the window sill. Bright blue eyes stared at them. Stubby horns poked through their hair. Igni waved. They shoot down, their squeak audible through the glass.
She didn’t need to turn to know he was smiling. Despite efforts, she was too. She decided to enjoy the moment. Her gaze drifted to clouds.
“Igni,”
“Yes Two”
“Angels know a lot about spirits.”
“Depending on what you mean by a lot, yes.”
“When, when they take people, children. What happened to them?” her throat tightened. A quiet moment stretched.
“They die.” He said softly.
She blinked at the clouds. What was she supposed to feel? “Really, nothing else? I thought they joined them. I guess that’s a euphemism.” Her voice died to a whisper. She felt silly, nursing a dream.
“I feel there’s a lot of cultural nuance I’m missing. But both can be true.” Her head whipped around. Her slit gaze bore into his grey eyes. “Death releases the heart. Though the process ranges from transformation to destructive.” He continued unabated. “Sometimes, it finds a new vessel. How much of the person is left? That’s a different question.”
She stared up at him. Uncaring of the slowly forming crowd. Again. What was she supposed to feel? Vindication, anger, regret? She felt silly all over again.
Igni shuffled, and his wings slowly shook. His lip pursed. “Would you like me to tell you more about spirits?” was he uncertain. Why would he care about her?
Her thoughts turned to his freely given smiles. He seemed to care about everyone. Why wouldn’t she count?
She took a slow deep breath.
“Yes,”
He smiled. She let herself enjoy it.