I rode the winding winds of a contemptuous storm, shadowing an angel through the sky as soulrain kicked sparks off the two of us. It was a talent to handle the rain well, apparently, one important enough to be recommended as a scout. Still, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness about the rainy days I now had to work.
“Look down there, cadet. It’s your first lesson.” Through the heavy rain, I couldn’t hear the sound of his voice, but the words reached me, although slightly distorted. He talked between bated breath, with short, but significant pauses.
My eyes zoomed in on a figure that shined in the rain just like us. Its outline though, was different, larger, less like a person, and more like a monster.
“Be a coward,” he said. “That's a demon, there’s far more of them than there are of you. They’re larger, tougher, and most of all, your job isn't to fight, it isn’t to be a hero, but to survive.”
“You’re a scout, you’re only as useful as you live to talk about what you’ve seen, don’t forget that. Understood?”
The people I saw from the rain were never cowards, even in spite of how they felt, how lonely, how scared, they faced fate with determination, resolution, and even peace. Maybe that’s why they’re dead. I considered.
“Understood captain…” I replied
I watched as we passed the demon below, it was perched atop a jagged hill, between wet rocks and silver grass. It had 4 clawed appendages, whose sharpness seemed to beg for flesh. Its two heads were conjoined, and curled beneath its long, four legged form. It was frozen in place and seemed to shiver with the wind. I wonder if it’s afraid. I thought. With one last look, we glided on a gust of wind home.
“As you said Ahaviah, she handles the rain well.” He patted me on the back and I winced. He was breathing shallow breaths, but not from exhaustion. Was it panic? “Better than me even. She'll be useful this Tempest.”
Ahaviah. Huh. It was the sweetbread girl. Strange to see her here.
“Hi, I'm Ahaviah, we’ll be in a squad together from now on, let me know if any of the guys here give you trouble and I’ll toss them over the wall.” she gestured at two angels playing a game of cards together by a bunk.
“You and those noodle arms?” cackled a soldier.
“I’ll start with you if you don't shut it!” She pointed. “That jerk is Simcha, the one with him is Uriel.”
“Thank you Ahaviah” I said. “I saw you the other day I think… I’m sorry about your bread, I hope your face is alright.”
“Y– You saw all that–?” She stumbled backwards.
“I…I'm sorry I brought it up, I just wanted to warn you… I think a black scaled toad ate all your flowers.”
“A demon ate all the blue poppies? How… How did it even get into the city?” She plopped into a chair, a hand now holding her forehead and grumbled.
“Wow she's got a scout’s eye already Ahavi! Can we keep her?” Simcha mused.
She shot him an intense look at that name, but relaxed slightly to reply. “She’s shadowing, but maybe if you two play nice.”
“Don’t get too fond of her Simcha, she walked out into the soulrain like she was strolling the queen’s garden. That kind of crazy gets you or others killed out there.” Uriel said, he slammed two cards face up in front of him, earning a labored, defeated groan from Simcha. He stood up, spreading his arms and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. “You make the wrong moves Mevakiel, and not even the demons will be able to pick up your pieces for lunch.”
“What a terrifying thing to say to a girl you just met, Uriel” Ahaviah scolded.
“She’s a terrifying girl! Look at her! I said such a terrifying thing and she doesn’t even care!” He retorted, crossing his arms.
I gave him a slight pout. “I was just listening to what you had to say.” I replied.
“Don’t listen to him, Mevakiel. If you want to listen to anyone, listen to the captain.”
“Huh?” The captain turned his head, summoned by his mention. In his hand was a sharp looking pipe. At its end dangled a chain which held a shard of iridescent metal, a tag, and a game piece that resembled an angel. There were silver pedals in the chamber, I think he was just about to light it. He looked slightly disappointed. “You all get along well? Good, because during the first lull in the rain we'll be sallying out into the Dygarlands.” He spoke gruffly.
He had a large frame and a grizzly face slightly disheveled by untold years. With the swift flick of his thumb against the side of his pipe, a flame bloomed, and a sweet smoke filled the air.
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“How’d you do that?” I asked.
“Compliments of the goddess, you’re made of light. I'll show you sometime, but I’ll never let you use mine. You'll get your own some day I’m sure.” he said.
This place was something between a barrack and a lounge, just for our squad. No one really slept here, but everyone was usually here off-work. Here Uriel showed me his card game Ramsariah, where an angel simply touching a blank card would invent an entirely unique card based off of them. They traded cards and bet them during battles, and built their decks through error and triumph. The card I created was called Moonlight. Uriel seemed really excited about it, but I didn't really care and just gave him the card hoping he'd stop calling me weird.
That's all angels really seemed to do. As the days passed, we’d fly out on brief excursions into the rain. Taking note of demons as they lumbered around. Then we'd return, the captain would pull out his pipe and a book and doze off, Ahaviah would scarf down her sweets, and Simcha and Uriel would play Ramsariah together. They were all in their own little worlds, silent, but together. The moments of nothing, I think, were what started to make this place home.
“What are you making that face for…?” Uriel asked.
“It's nothing really.” I smiled.
“U…huh.” He nodded.
“I think I'm starting to see what you mean about her being weird, Uriel.” Simcha whispered.
My eyebrows twitched. “You guys are so mean…”
Still, in the moments of nothing, I couldn’t help but remember the death in the rain. That I could live so peacefully, while others were swallowed by cruelty. It made peace seem like an act everyone was playing in.
It’d been some time since Tempest had started, enough for Ahaviah to change her palette to new foods over a dozen times, she seemed almost bored of it at this point, and started dragging her feet around the halls. The sky was still maroon, the world was dark, but for now, there was an eerie, rainless calm. The captain said that Tempest will last some while longer, around 50 days based on the lumen calendar. Nearly everyday looked the same to me though, the clouds swallowed the sky, leaving no light to keep the time. The temples had their own method given by the goddess, it helped keep the rhythm of the kingdom while we tread in the dark, but to the individual the endless nights weighed heavily.
We readied that morning, in a respectful silence. Dawning argent armor and holstering several daggers each. Argent was the iridescent metal I’d seen so often, it was very cheap and light, with decent durability. Perfect for angels who need something protective to wear, but who still need to fly. I’d learned while talking to the captain that it was actually made from a process involving silver grain and soulwater. Argent daggers were the choice of weapon for scouts because of their flexibility; they were sharp and versatile enough to be used as tools or weapons, but still disposable enough to throw if needed.
The threat of the red sky loomed over us as we leapt off the walls, pushing the air beneath us, and letting the wind carry us far. Exposed stone accented the sides of earthen hills as they poked from the ground. Flora of blue, silver, and green sprouted from the earth, some so quickly to be visible from the sky. In a different, slower sense of time than ours, they battled bitterly for space. Growing over, through, and around each other, some grew thorns which tore and shredded the flesh of vines, and one peculiar tree trapped a sprouting flower in an arborous maw. Amongst it all were the demons of many forms, who thrashed about the jagged hills. They killed each other quickly with indifference and mowed through the undergrowth with ravenous greed, swallowing anything they could fit between their crushing jaws. This was the Dygarlands.
The captain seemed to notice my guffaw. “This is just a taste Mevakiel, this lull in the rain is just a trial of what Genesis is like when Tempest really ends.” The captain said. “That’s when the demons get really hungry for scatterbrained angels with inverted eyes.”
“That’s not very funny…” I replied.
“Really though, keep your wits about you while you’re here.” he said. “After Genesis, Retribution tears everything asunder, and Tranquility is generally peaceful. But Tempest and Genesis are when the wild demons are most vicious.”
My guess is Tranquility was when I was born. I hardly had the chance to take it all in while I was being thrown from job to job, but I remembered seeing the stars and Tempest rolled in soon after.
I stared into the constantly shifting war of the undergrowth; it felt so foreign to the peace in the kingdom. Here there would be no quiet streets, beautiful weaving of knives, or gentle gardens of blue flowers. It would all be blended into a paste by the churning battle to live. I remembered the resolve and confidence in the queen’s eyes when I first met her and understood it now. I might never meet her again, but now I was thankful for the battle I never knew she was fighting. The world grew darker as we went further and further from the kingdom. The sky was no longer maroon, but black and the only light now came from a gentle translucent glow of the wisping undergrowth beneath us. Even what little ambient light we had in the sky, it turned out, had come from the queen’s power.
The wisps of light glowed beneath us, floating carelessly in the air, and dancing against the violent shoves of lumbering demons. They swirled against force, never afraid, they played in the air like death was just a fun game. I thought I could almost hear laughing.
“Keep a look out for any unusual changes, we’re looking for any movement of demon princes, or the formation of herds that could threaten the kingdom.” The captain let out a big sigh. “Good luck.”
We flew in pairs, gliding through the sky as foreigners in this strange, shifting land. I watched a long, legless demon with a bulging torso and a thin long tail slow to a halt. It stopped eating for a moment to look right at me with beady, bulging eyes. I felt neither hostility nor hunger in its gaze, just simple curiosity. The demon was then promptly diced into 5 irregular segments by the scythe-like arms of a quadrupedal demon, which gnashed its flesh with dagger-like serrated teeth. Its head held its curious look even as it flew off its torso.
“Why am I here?” I asked.
“To help.” Ahaviah replied with an apologetic look.
My eyes lingered on the spot where the demon had just died, its remains were swallowed by its predator and the shifting undergrowth until nothing visible remained.
“What can I do to help with something… like this? Why me?” I asked. Not long ago, I remember weaving clumsy bird nests of metal and fumbling around under the gentle smile of the queen. That I should be here, after failing so much, after life felt so much simpler. A thought bubbled to the surface. Was I sent here to die?