Prologue

It was silent and cold, with snow falling to cover the forest in Waterville, Maine. Nothing stirred in the stillness; nothing dared disturb the tranquility of the night. Nothing that is, until there was a sudden flash of blinding light and from out of another time and place stepped a figure from behind a rather large and ancient oak tree. There was no way to define the figure as a man or woman, as a large black cloak covered the entirety of the figure’s body with a large hood shielding his or her face from view. However, when the figure spoke, ever so softly to the bundle in his arms, anyone who might have been listening at the time would have been able to identify his voice as a man’s: deep, with rich undertones, and a slight, unidentifiable accent.
“And yet, somehow, she continues to slumber,” the figure mused quietly, looking down at the small bundle he carried. At first glance, one may have thought he was merely carrying a few clothes or blankets. However, a tiny hand just barely stretched outward as the infant, wrapped in as many layers as the figure could have found where he came from, stirred in her sleep. She gave a contented sigh and settled once more. Her skin was white as cream, and atop of her head was a lock of light-colored hair, presumably to turn red or auburn when it grew out. The figure’s hood was pulled back slightly by the wind, just enough to reveal his face from the nose down. He was smiling.
The man drew a part of one blanket over the babe’s exposed arm and resumed his journey. He quickly weaved through the forest, his feet not making a sound and his breath a mere vapor that vanished as quickly as it appeared. When at last he reached the forest’s edge at a road he stopped, seeming to scan the horizon, his eyes glistening from deep within the cowl of his cloak. He went forward after a while, slowly this time, unsure of his true direction. He followed the road, keeping a sharp watch for anything that might come along and see his plight. Eventually he found himself in Winslow. He walked along the shops downtown, all of which were closed, marveling at the various items visible through the windows. He had never seen many of the items on display there, and wondered what purpose they had. He found his way to the bridge just off of the shops, and for a moment paused as he studied the water crashing on the rocks below. The mist from the water chilled him, and he quickly abandoned that place as his burden began to stir, uncomfortable with the sudden damp chill.
The man continued on in the same manner, studying the stores and houses he came to, but always moving on as if it was not quite the right location for what he needed. He was about to give up for the night and turn back when he finally saw what he was looking for. Another man stood on the porch of his house, wearing a heavy denim coat as he stood smoking in the cold, his eyes absently studying the starry skies above. His hair was shoulder-length, wavy, and a dark auburn, and he sported the beginnings of a scruffy beard on his chin. His build, somewhat increased by the bulk of his coat, was quite obviously large to begin with, resembling something like a grizzly bear. His eyes, which the figure was able to examine after he got closer, were green flecked with yellow, like gold in a sea of emeralds. The house behind him was just right for a small family, or perhaps a bit big for one person, and only the light in the living room was on.

The stranger approached the man, who became wary at the stranger’s appearance.
“Evening,” the man said in greeting. His voice rumbled in his chest like a bear’s growl, and he unobtrusively put one hand to his right side, which was turned slightly away from the stranger. The stranger slowed as he approached, stopping on the third step of the porch.
“I do not mean you any harm,” he said from deep within his cowl. “I have brought something of interest to you.”
The man took a step to his door. “I doubt that…who goes skulking around in the dark on a night like this just to bring a present, unless he’s Santa Clause?”
“Please,” the stranger said, his voice rising with urgency, “listen to what I have to say. I promise you will not regret it.”
The man hesitated. The stranger took that as a sign of his willingness to listen, and he continued. “I know your name is Charles…I know also that you have lost much in the past year: a wife, a child…a family. But what if you were given a second chance?”
Charles took another step back. “How did you-?”
“I have something for you,” the figure interrupted. He motioned at Charles to approach, holding out his burden. When Charles saw what the figure was holding, his face blanched.
“Where did you get that?” he said, his voice as cold as the night’s air. The figure smiled ever so slightly.
“That is of no consequence. You can call her what you wish, give her the best education possible, make sure she learns how to defend herself in combat and in the wilderness…Do whatever you want with her, but remember this: she has a hard life ahead of her, no matter how you try to soften it. Best prepare her for that while you can.” He gave the child to Charles, who cradled her as though she were made of glass and meant the world to him. The figure turned to go, but before he disappeared into the darkness Charles called out:
“Wait!” When the figure paused and half-turned in his direction, Charles hesitantly asked: “Where is she from?”
The man thought carefully before he replied, “She comes from a land that is so far away…you would not know that it existed. She is special…I’m sure you will discover that in no time.” At that, he continued on his way, and only the sleeping babe was any proof that Charles had of the visit.

After staring out into the darkness for what felt like an eternity, his eyes straining to catch a glimpse of the figure he knew he had just seen, Charles looked down at the sleeping child in his arms. A small smile danced across his face for one fleeting moment as he gazed down into the innocent face. Then, feeling the cold again, Charles put out his cigarette and took the child inside his house.
He walked into his bedroom, the room where he and his wife and child had slept not too long ago. Grief had kept Charles from changing anything in that room; even the cradle was still set up. Charles began to unwrap some of the many blankets that were around the sleeping babe, and almost yelped in surprise. Enough of the babe’s layers had fallen away to reveal the sleeping child inside, and at a first glance she would be the ideal infant: smooth, silky, pale skin, her eyes closed peacefully in sleep, her small fingers curled into miniature fists. However, Charles was more focused on something that had not been visible until the blankets fell away: small pair of jet-black wings was folded snugly against the child’s back, and every so often when she moved in her sleep, one wing might twitch. Charles didn’t know what to make of it.
“What are you?” he murmured with a curse, almost afraid of what might happen when the child awoke. And wake she did, for no sooner had he spoken than the babe’s eyes opened and she looked directly at him.
He was caught by her serious gaze at once. Her eyes, already somewhat brown but tinted with a deep scarlet, seemed to go right through him and search his innermost being. An odd sort of buzzing filled his head, and he almost would have believed that the child was able to see everything that he had done and what he was like in that glance. The child blinked, her tiny face breaking into a smile as she suddenly laughed, and the buzzing in Charles’s head stopped immediately.
Charles re-examined the child in his arms. Aside from the wings, she looked almost exactly as his own daughter had before the terrible car crash that had killed her and his wife. How could he not take care of this infant? But, Charles thought, she needs a name. What could the child be called?
Almost immediately, he knew what to call her. The baby reached one arm up, and Charles brought his own hand in front of it so that she grasped his index finger. She cooed, her grasp strong for any child.
“Angel,” Charles murmured.

Angel

Angel waited impatiently on her bed, staring at the glowing numbers on her alarm clock, her mahogany eyes reflecting the numbers on the clock’s face. According to the time, it would be exactly one hour before midnight, which was exactly when (to the precise second, mind) she would be eighteen. She had been born at exactly midnight on November thirtieth, almost exactly eighteen years ago. She never knew her mother, who had died soon after she had been born, but her father was all the family she needed. He had raised her himself in his warm, comfortable, spacious cabin in the middle of the expansive woods of Winslow, Maine. It wasn’t exactly a cabin, as it was two stories high, well furnished, and even had a balcony that Angel could access through a door in her bedroom. Angel’s father had taught her everything she could possibly learn there since she was old enough to do so: reading, arithmetic, science, history, all of the regular things one learns in school. He had also taught her kung fu, boxing, kendo, how to throw knives, how to cook, how to survive in the woods, first aid, how to swim, even horseback riding (Angel had her own horse in the stables adjacent to the cabin). But there was one thing she had to learn by herself: flying.
Her wings were the only reason why she had to stay hidden from other people, why she could only go out in the day as long as she was careful to stay inside the boundaries of the woods or if there was a very thick fog, or not go out at all until night covered the outdoors in a black veil. Angel’s father – Charles – did not have wings himself, nor did Angel’s mother, but Angel did not mind being the “odd one” in the family. She wouldn’t give up flying for the world. She loved the sense of freedom, of recklessness that came as she soared high above the treetops, her powerful wings rhythmically going up and down over and over again. When she was about ten, her wings were strong enough that she could pick up her father and fly him over the trees as well, though he usually preferred to keep his feet on the ground. He had said that if she wanted to flit around like a bird that was fine with him, but his ass was obviously meant to stay on the solid earth.
Though her feathery, black wings were the only visible reason Angel had almost never been allowed to be near anyone other than her father, she also knew that she could do things others could not. She could hold her breath for at least fifteen minutes under water, she was exceptionally strong (though she weighed only one-hundred and thirty pounds and at the height of five-foot-eight was thin as a rail) as well as fast. Angel could communicate with animals; not to say that she could necessarily talk to them, she just understood what they were meaning and they in turn seemed able to understand what she was saying. She also knew things before they happened, sometimes through visions that would often bring headaches, and sometimes through just a strong sense of intuition or déjà vu. She could see an odd sort of Essence around certain things, though it varied in color and brightness depending on what she was looking at. She had sharp senses, healed quickly, and could even see in the dark. And sometimes, when Angel was lying in bed like she was tonight, awake and there was no noise around, sometimes she could hear strange voices in her head.
“You will be with us soon,” the voice said. The one speaking tonight was female, she knew that much, but it never told Angel who it was or what it meant by some of the strange things it said on occasion. Sometimes it spoke in another language, which Angel couldn’t decipher to save her own life.
“Who’s ‘us’?” Angel thought back, “You’ve been saying that you’re coming after me for a long time now…are you going to get it over with or just go on forever saying you will?”
There was a pause, and Angel could sense a feeling of urgency and perhaps sadness. “The time has been longer than you may think,” the voice finally said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Angel retorted. The voice didn’t answer her. Angel sighed and looked again at her alarm clock. Forty-five minutes to go now. She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes easily able to make out the smallest details on the poster above even through the darkness. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. She always kept her hair long, about waist-length, and it was auburn in color. Angel also had a pale complexion, which she inherited from her father. Her father’s side of the family was strongly Scot-Irish, which – according to her father – she resembled much more of than that of her mother’s German breeding.

Angel must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew it was exactly midnight. She quickly got out of bed and ran to her closet, grabbing a white sweater and pulling it over her head, pulling her wings close to her back as she did so until she felt them reach the slits in the back of the sweater. She then spread her wings, which brought them out of the sweater through the slits, and tugged her sweater down. Then Angel put on a pair of jeans and her black snow boots that came to the middle of her calf, and hurried to the door at the far side of her room that led to the balcony. Her bedroom was on the top floor, which she had all to herself, and she frequently used the balcony adjacent to her room as her “takeoff zone”.
Angel paused on the balcony long enough to breathe in the cold night air. It brought her all the scents she associated with home: the pine trees, freshly chopped wood, the smoke coming from the cabin’s chimney, and even the odd mixture of scents brought by the animals inhabiting the woods. A meow at her feet caused her to look down to see her black cat – Tiger – who was curling around her ankles, begging her to take him along. Tiger, like any other animal she had ever seen, had a reddish-colored Essence (though the type of red usually varied from animal to animal). Angel smiled, picked up Tiger, and unfurled her wings, and she soared high into the air.
The cold bit at Angel’s exposed skin, but she ignored this and continued her flight. She rose with the currents, flipped in midair, tumbled, weaved, and plummeted only to rise again, performing a dance in the air as only she and the birds could. Tiger did not appreciate all of the tumbling, however, and told her so by digging his claws into her arm each time she did this. Angel laughed.
“Come on, Tiger!” she said above the roar of the rushing wind, “It’s only a few cartwheels!” Tiger, however, growled softly in the back of his throat. Finally Angel relented, and was content to just fly around and survey the forest below.

After an hour or two of this, her birthday ritual, Angel finally flew back to her balcony, landing neatly and depositing Tiger on her bed as she walked into her room. Apparently, Charles had been up as well, because a box wrapped in bright, gold-colored paper donned with a silver bow was on her pillow. Angel sat down on her bed and picked up the present, taking the bow off and putting it on Tiger’s tail. He looked at her irritably for a moment, but when he twitched his tail the bow moved and he couldn’t resist chasing after it. Angel grinned and unwrapped the present.
Inside the box was a dark green cloak. Angel looked quizzically at it for a moment. Sure, Charles had given her weird gifts before, but usually it consisted of stuff that she had felt a little big for, like getting Barbie dolls when she was twelve. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. She shrugged and stood up, putting on the cloak – which nearly reached the floor when she did so – and crossing to stand in front of the full-length mirror behind her bedroom door. The cloak actually doesn’t look too bad, she thought. It definitely brought out the red in her hair and eyes, and complimented her skin tone. She also noticed that it was held together at the shoulder by a silver pin in the shape of a rose, which was actually her favorite flower. She touched the pin, tracing its delicate leaves with her fingers, then took off the cloak and hung it up inside her closet. Angel then went downstairs, where she noticed her father already making coffee. She glanced at the time, surprised to see him up at this hour.
“Hey, daddy,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled.
“Good morning, darlin’. Happy birthday.” Though he was obviously trying to hide it, Angel could tell something was bothering him. She poured herself a cup of coffee.
“What’s going on?” Angel finally asked, getting the milk out of the fridge. “You’re usually going to bed right about now, or already snoring. And I can tell you’re hiding something from me…”
Charles sighed. “It’s not fair when I can’t keep secrets from my own daughter,” he muttered. He cleared his throat, not looking at Angel as he stirred some Splenda into his coffee. “We’re going to be having a visitor tonight,” he said finally.
Angel frowned. “A visitor?” she repeated. This usually meant she would have to go somewhere into the woods or be extremely quiet in her room.
“Yes, a visitor,” Charles answered, still stirring. “But you won’t have to hide… It’s Jeremy. He wanted to see you and talk to you about something.”
Angel was surprised. Aside from Charles, Jeremy was the only other person she had ever been allowed to meet face-to-face. He never showed up on her birthday, though; typically he only came around during the holidays, and he never stayed very long. He always brought unusual presents, and his Essence was very different than Charles’s. While Charles had an Essence that was mostly green with a few strands of blue here and there, Jeremy had a half-blue half-orange Essence. She never could figure out what the colors meant, but she knew he was definitely different than her father and the few other people she may notice on the ground below her when she occasionally flew over the nearby town. Usually those people had an Essence similar to her father’s, though some had more blue while others had less.
“When is he supposed to come?” she asked, pouring some sugar into her coffee and stirring it. She never really cared for Splenda, which Charles was obsessed with, so the sugar was primarily hers. All the better, she reasoned.
Charles paused. “Sometime between now and dawn.”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “Now? At two in the morning?”
Charles shrugged. “It’s what he said. I wouldn’t put it past him, either.”
Before Angel could reply, there was a knock at the door. Charles gave her a knowing look. “That would be Jeremy,” he said, going to answer the door. Angel shook her head, then suddenly was gripped by a searing pain in her skull and accidentally dropped her coffee mug, which she heard shatter on the linoleum floor.

A group of men, none of which Angel recognized, were framed in the doorway. It was snowing outside, and Angel could tell that this was sometime in early December, probably no more than a week after her birthday. All of the men had odd features about them: one had a pair of horns coming out of his forehead, another had spikes covering his entire face, another reminded Angel of a cobra, and the last one had no arms but instead possessed a pair of odd forelegs resembling those of a praying mantis. One of the men – the one with spikes all over his face – raised his hand towards Charles, palm outward, and there was a sudden flash. Charles fell to the floor, stone dead. Angel screamed just as the man with the mantis arms leapt toward her, a cruel grin spreading across his face.

Angel was aware of two things: first, that she was completely freaking out about the weird vision she just had; second, that Charles was holding her head – which was pounding like mad – off of the floor, his expression the very image of concern.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low. Angel nodded and winced as it brought another wave of pain.
“What did you see?” Jeremy was standing behind Charles, and for some reason Angel could tell that the question was urgent. She told them both about her vision, and she noticed Jeremy’s face going white as she did so. Charles’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Is it time, Jeremy?” he asked quietly, facing him.
Angel was confused. Time for what? Jeremy’s expression was thoughtful as he carefully thought out his answer.
“Not quite,” he replied slowly, “Though I would say that it will be wise if you begin packing soon…like today.”
“What’s going on?” Angel asked. She was standing by now, and had taken a bite of chocolate, which always seemed to help vision headaches, and was making herself another mug of coffee. She noticed that the pieces of the mug she had accidentally dropped had already been cleaned up. Charles exhaled slowly, the sound coming out more like a shhhhit…
“There are things you will learn very soon, Angel,” Jeremy said, his voice serious. “Some things are about you directly, and others affect you in various ways. But all of it is vitally important.”
Angel wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but whether she realized it or not, one thing was certain: life as she had known it was about to change forever.

Perhaps an hour later, the bed of Angel’s black Ford pickup was packed with clothes, camping supplies, and a few other necessities. The horses had been released from the stables and weer aimlessly wandering about; eventually they would be found once they reached the road, but no one would know where they had come from as Charles never branded them to prevent peoples’ curiosity. Angel and Jeremy would ride in the truck, along with Tiger, who would ride in Jeremy’s lap while Angel drove. Charles would follow behind on his motorcycle: a white Buick. Where exactly they were going, Angel didn’t know, but every once in a while Jeremy would tell her to turn left or keep straight for a few miles and then make a sharp right. They drove for hours, and Angel could have sworn that they drove in circles more than once, but she didn’t say anything, preferring to allow the radio fill in the silence.
Finally, after Jeremy had made Angel drive so far from home that she didn’t even recognize the landscape, and the sky was just beginning to grey with dawn, he told her to stop. They were in some unknown town in the middle of nowhere, and its only features were a small general store, a hotel, a school, a church, and a post office; very few houses were scattered throughout the town, but most of the people lived in the surrounding wilderness. They stopped at the hotel, and Angel waited in her truck with Jeremy while Charles went inside to rent a room.
“Angel, I am going to have to ask you to do something.” Jeremy shook his head and continued. “This may be damned hard for you, but you will have to trust me if you do anything else.”
Angel nodded, not even hesitating before she did so. She knew she could trust Jeremy. She had always known. “I can handle it,” she answered, petting Tiger, who had climbed into her lap. Jeremy looked pleased.
“I know you can,” he said. He glanced out the window, and when he saw that Charles was still getting a room he turned back to Angel. “Tonight, I want you to stay awake long after your father has gone to bed. When you begin to hear the voices in your head, I want you to go to the bathroom in your hotel room. The voices will tell you what to do. Follow their instructions, but make sure your father does not awaken.”
“What will happen?” Angel asked, her curiosity aroused, especially since she had never told Jeremy about her nighttime voices. Jeremy looked uncomfortable.
“I told you before that there are things you will learn,” he said, “and you will have to begin learning them tonight. Your survival, and that of everyone in existence, is counting on it.” He paused, then reluctantly added, “You will vanish from this world for a time, Angel. If you wish to say farewell to your father, you should do so tonight. But be warned: he cannot know that you are going before you actually leave.”
Angel was taken aback. “Vanish? You mean like witness-protection or something?”
Jeremy shook his head and was about to explain further, when there was a knock on his window. Charles was standing behind the glass, a key dangling from a white keychain with the number 25 printed on its surface.

Later, after Angel and Charles had settled into their hotel room and brought all the bags in from Angel’s truck, Jeremy left them with a promise to contact them again later. Before he left he discreetly threw a meaningful look at Angel that said: do not tell Charles anything. Angel swallowed hard.
“Alrighty, then,” Charles said, once Jeremy was gone, “I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty grimy. I’m going to take a shower. Order some food, ok?” He tossed Angel his credit card, taking some clothes into the bathroom with him and shutting the door. Angel flipped through the different restaurant listings in the phone book she found in the nightstand drawer, finally settling on the nearest pizzeria. She called the number and ordered a medium pepperoni and bacon pizza for herself, and then a large everything pizza for Charles. After the employee told her that the pizza would be delivered in approximately twenty minutes she hung up, then flipped on the TV and surfed the channels to see if anything interesting was on. She finally stopped on a channel which was – ironically enough – playing Angel reruns. Angel started to settle against the pillows of her bed to enjoy the show, when she suddenly remembered Jeremy’s words: “You will vanish from this world for a time…”
Angel got up and crossed the room to her bags, picking up her backpack and emptying its contents onto her bed. Tiger jumped on the bed, sniffing at the items curiously. Angel ignored him, getting her suitcase and putting that on the bed as well. She opened it, and took out a few items of clothing, folding them as small as she could and sliding them into her backpack. She managed to fit in four shirts, two pairs of pants, two sweaters, some lingerie, and her brush. As an afterthought, she added some of Tiger’s food and one of his toys and – oddly enough – the cloak she had gotten as a birthday present only a few hours ago, and she just managed to slide in a picture of Charles and herself standing in front of their house, which was taken in the previous summer. In it, one of her wings was extended to Charles’s opposite shoulder, cocooning them in a sense, though Charles was still half a head taller than she. Angel quickly zipped up her backpack and dropped it on the floor between her bed and the wall, and put whatever else that was scattered on the bed in the suitcase. She had just finished hiding the evidence of what she had done and was putting the suitcase on the floor when the bathroom door opened.
“So, what did you order?” Charles asked, his hair still wet from his shower. Angel kept her face carefree, though she unobtrusively studied him for any sign that he was aware of what she had been doing.
“Pizza,” she replied, smiling. Charles had long regarded pizza as “the best damn thing mankind ever made”, relishing every single bite he ever took. He had rarely, if ever, eaten a pizza he didn’t like.
“Wonderful,” Charles said, giving Angel a kiss on the top of her head. He crossed the room to the mini fridge beside a table and opened its door, pulling out two beers. He tossed one to Angel, opening his own and taking a long swig out of it. He spread his rather large body on his bed, staring at the T.V. as he waited for the pizza to arrive.
Angel opened her beer, taking a sip and then putting it on a coaster on the bedside table. Charles had allowed her to drink since she was sixteen, reasoning that as long as the world didn’t know that she existed she might as well have something to occupy herself with. Angel, however, knew that what he really wanted was a drinking buddy. It didn’t bother her, though, and she actually enjoyed the bittersweet tang of alcohol. She particularly enjoyed wine, but she would never turn down a good beer like the ones her father gave her.
They sat on their respective beds for a while, watching as the vampire hero tried to figure out a the cause of a woman’s gruesome murder, when there was suddenly a knock at the door. Charles looked questioningly at Angel, who nodded once, stood, and went to wait in the bathroom. The last thing they would need is for the delivery guy to piss himself at her wings. Angel waited until she heard her father close the hotel room’s door after paying for their dinner before she finally came out of the bathroom. Her pepperoni and bacon pizza was on her bed, while Charles was sitting on his bed already halfway through the first slice of his.
“Supper’s ready,” he said through a mouthful of pizza, eyes fixed on the TV as the vampire tore through a monster.

By about two in the morning, Charles was sound asleep. He had probably about six beer bottles on the ground beside him, so Angel knew he wouldn’t even twitch his arm if she had the T.V. on full volume. Angel sighed inwardly and threw back the covers on her bed, piling her pillows in a row on the bed so that it would look like she was sleeping there when her father woke up later. She placed a note on top of the pillows before covering them once again. She had written it when her father had made a quick run to the general store earlier for more beer for him and a Moxy energy drink for Angel. She had written:

Dear Daddy,

I’m sorry that I disappeared so suddenly. There is so much going on that I don’t even understand, but I was told that I would have to leave you for now. Please don’t be mad…I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, and I promise I’ll be extra careful where I am.
I’m not sure why I had that weird vision earlier, nor do I know what it meant, but I know it at least means something really big and probably bad is going to happen soon. Please, please, please be careful! Don’t answer the door unless you know for sure who’s behind it, and lock the doors and windows every night before you go to sleep. Go to the bank in the morning and get some cash; you probably shouldn’t use your credit card for a while, since there’s no telling who might be looking for you or me. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you while I’m gone.
I’ve taken Tiger with me, so don’t freak out about him being missing too. Call Jeremy when you see this; he’ll tell you where you’ll be safe.
I love you, daddy. I promise I’ll call or email or something as soon as possible, and I’ll come back home as soon as I can.

-Angel

Once Angel was finished arranging the bed, she sat cross-legged on the floor with her back against the wall and closed her eyes. She was aware of Tiger climbing into her lap as she patiently waited for the voices to start talking. She fingered the silver Irish cross necklace her father had given her as a birthday present after they had eaten. She had been surprised, because she had thought that the cloak had been her present, but when Charles didn’t seem to know what she was talking about she had quickly changed the subject.
“Angel,” a voice finally said, its tone causing the word to sound almost like a curse. Angel cringed. It was the voice (she had figured out that it was male quite some time ago, as it was very deep and for some reason reminded her of Darth Vader) that she didn’t like nearly as much as the others. It always made her feel like a mouse that is in the mercy of a snake, who was preparing to strike. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Angel answered, her thoughts curt.
“Come outside,” it told her. Angel stood, pulling the backpack over her wings and shoulders and picking up Tiger. She was already completely dressed; in fact, she never got out of her clothes tonight. Thankfully, Charles hadn’t noticed. Angel had come in front of the door and was about to open it when she suddenly heard another voice.
“Angel, come to the bathroom, quickly!” Angel blinked. This voice was the female voice that she had taken a liking to from the first time that she had ever heard it. But now it was telling her not to go?
“Don’t do anything that missorugi tells you!” the male voice snarled. “Come outside, this instant!”
“Angel, don’t listen to him!” the female voice cautioned. “You don’t want to go with him, believe me!”
“Come outside, Angel! I’m warning you!”
“Stay in, go to the bathroom! Hurry, before it’s too late!”
“Don’t listen to her!”
“Pay no attention to him!”
“If you value your life-”
“Please, you must-”
“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Angel’s thought was a scream. Quickly, before the voices began to talk again, she turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom. Tiger was still purring in her arms as she shut the door, careful not to drop her burden.
“Ok, voice, the female one,” she thought, “What do you want me to do in here?”
“Face the door,” the voice instructed, “And close your eyes. When you are ready, reach for the door, open it, and step through. Be careful not to open your eyes at least until you have counted to fifty as you walk.”
“I’m taking Tiger with me,” Angel warned. The voice hesitated.
“Very well…but you may wish to hold onto him. Tightly. You won’t want to loose him, believe me.”
Angel tightened her hold on her cat and ignored his protesting meows. She closed her eyes and stepped out, thinking that at any minute her foot would make contact with the wall a few feet away from the door and she’d be making a complete fool of herself.
She felt her foot make contact with the ground. Eyes still closed, she brought her other foot forward, walking slowly. After another step she realized that Tiger’s meows were somehow echoing, like they were in a cathedral, or a tomb, or…
A cave. Somehow, Angel had gone from being in the hotel bathroom to being inside a cold, dark, dank freaking cave. Angel looked over her shoulder, expecting to see the bathroom wall behind her, but all she saw was darkness as the cave’s corridor continued even deeper into the ground. She kept walking, her eyes searching for anything that might jump out at her. There was almost not enough light for even her sharp eyes, and she wondered where the mouth of the cave was.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of darkness, she saw a light up ahead. She quickened her pace, eager to get out of the cave so she could figure out exactly where she was and how she had gotten there. When she reached the opening she froze, stunned at what she saw.
A snow-covered valley, illuminated by the full moon above, stretched out before the cave, and Angel could hear a brook trickling not too far away. There were almost no trees except for one or two that were far off, but that did not detract from the beauty she saw. Angel noticed that there was an odd sort of smell in the area, something she had never known at home. It was bitter cold, and Angel was glad she had dressed warmly. A sharp breeze stung her cheeks and would have taken her breath away, had the mere sight of what was outside the cave already done so. The stars, set differently than what Angel was accustomed to and yet somehow familiar still, glistened overhead, and Angel could see a campfire blazing some distance away. She almost thought that there was no one at the fire, but then someone stepped out from behind the flames and stood beside the light.
It was a woman clad in a white long-sleeved blouse, a pair of dark brown pants, knee-high leather boots, and a long black cloak that nearly reached the ground; her hair was bright red – almost like the fire itself – and fell past her shoulders, she held herself proudly erect (“Like a freaking queen,” Angel thought) and the fire made her skin seem more pale than it actually was. She had a willowy build, but Angel got the idea that she would not be someone that a person would want to fuck with. She had high cheekbones, and her eyes – which Angel couldn’t quite make out their color from this distance – pierced through the remaining darkness that Angel was still standing in and seemed to look right through her. The woman’s Essence was a beautiful shade of purple, almost lavender but not quite. Then Angel noticed one thing that caused her heart to skip a beat. The woman had a pair of feathered wings, white as the snow dotting the landscape behind her.
“Welcome to Lansreth,” Angel heard the voice in her head and immediately knew it was the woman. She took a cautious step forward, still clinging tightly to Tiger, who had ceased his yowling, probably being as surprised at the change in their surroundings as she.
“Who are you?” Angel asked, for perhaps the hundredth time in her life. She almost didn’t believe that the woman would tell her, but to her surprise she did. The woman straightened herself.
“I am Belcaize,” the woman answered. “And I am your sister. Welcome home, Angel.” Belcaize thought, smiling. “It has been a long time.”

CHAPTER TWO: A STEP FORWARD:

About four hours later, the bed of Angel’s black Ford pickup was packed with clothes, camping supplies, and a few other things. Angel and Jeremy would ride in the truck, along with Tiger, who would ride in Jeremy’s lap while Angel drove. Charles would follow behind on his motorcycle: a white Buick. Where exactly they were going, Angel didn’t know, but every once in a while Jeremy would tell her to turn left or keep straight for a few miles and then make a sharp right. They drove for hours, and Angel could have sworn that they drove in circles more than once, but she didn’t say anything, preferring to allow the radio fill in the silence.
Finally, after Jeremy had made Angel drive so far from home that she didn’t even recognize the landscape, he told her to stop. They were in some unknown town in the middle of nowhere, and its only features were a small general store, a hotel, a school, a church, and a post office; very few houses were scattered throughout the town, but most of the people lived in the surrounding wilderness. They stopped at the hotel, and Angel waited in her truck with Jeremy while Charles went inside to rent a room.
“Angel,” Jeremy said, his voice low, “I am going to have to ask you to do something. This may be very hard for you, but you will have to trust me.”
Angel nodded, not even hesitating before she did so. She knew she could trust Jeremy. She had always known. “I can handle it,” she answered, petting Tiger, who had climbed into her lap. Jeremy looked pleased.
“I know you can,” he said firmly. He glanced out the window, and when he saw that Charles was still getting a room he turned back to Angel. “Tonight, I want you to stay awake long after your father has gone to bed. When you begin to hear the voices in your head, I want you to go to the bathroom in your hotel room. The voices will tell you what to do. Follow their instructions, but make sure your father does not awaken.”
“What will happen?” Angel asked, her curiosity aroused. Jeremy looked uncomfortable.
“I told you before that there are things you will learn,” he said, “and you will have to begin learning them tonight. Your survival, and that of everyone in this world, is counting on it.” He paused, then reluctantly added, “You will vanish from this world for a time, Angel. If you wish to say farewell to your father, you should do so tonight. But be warned: he cannot know that you are going before you actually leave.”
Angel was taken aback. “Vanish? You mean like witness-protection or something?”
Jeremy shook his head and was about to explain further, when there was a knock on his window. Charles was standing behind the glass, a key dangling from a keychain with the number 25 printed on its surface.

Later, after Angel and Charles had settled into their hotel room and brought all the bags in from Angel’s truck, Jeremy left them with a promise to contact them again later. Before he left he discreetly threw a meaningful look at Angel that said: do not tell Charles anything. Angel swallowed hard.
“Alrighty, then,” Charles said, once Jeremy was gone, “I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty grimy. I’m going to take a shower. Order some food, ok?” He tossed Angel the phone book and his credit card, taking some clothes into the bathroom with him and shutting the door. Angel flipped through the different restaurant listings, finally settling on the nearest pizzeria. She called the number and ordered a medium pepperoni and bacon pizza for herself, and then a large everything pizza for Charles. After the employee told her that the pizza would be delivered in approximately twenty minutes she hung up, then flipped on the TV and surfed the channels to see if anything interesting was on. She finally stopped on TNT, which was – ironically enough – playing its morning episodes of “Angel”. Angel started to settle against the pillows of her bed to enjoy the show, when she suddenly remembered Jeremy’s words: “You will vanish from this world for a time…”
Angel got up and crossed the room to her bags, picking up her backpack and emptying its contents onto her bed. Tiger jumped on the bed, sniffing at the items curiously. Angel ignored him, getting her suitcase and putting that on the bed as well. She opened it, and took out a few items of clothing, folding them as small as she could and sliding them into her backpack. She managed to fit in four shirts, two pairs of pants, two sweaters, some lingerie, and her brush. As an afterthought, she added some of Tiger’s food and one of his toys and – oddly enough – the cloak she had gotten as a birthday present only a few hours ago, and she just managed to slide in a picture of Charles and herself standing in front of their house, which was taken in the previous summer. In it, one of her wings was extended to Charles’s opposite shoulder, cocooning them in a sense, though Charles was still half a head taller than she. Angel quickly zipped up her backpack and dropped it on the floor between her bed and the wall, and put whatever else that was scattered on the bed in the suitcase. She had just finished hiding the evidence of what she had done and was putting the suitcase on the floor when the bathroom door opened.
“So, what did you order?” Charles asked, his hair still wet from his shower. Angel kept her face carefree, though she unobtrusively studied him for any sign that he was aware of what she had been doing.
“Pizza,” she replied, a smiling. Charles had long regarded pizza as “God’s gift of food from the heavens”, relishing every single bite he ever took. He had rarely, if ever, eaten a pizza he didn’t like.
“Wonderful,” Charles said, giving Angel a kiss on the top of her head. He crossed the room to the mini fridge beside a table and opened its door, pulling out two beers. He tossed one to Angel, opening his own and taking a long drink. He spread his rather large body on the bed, staring at the T.V. as he waited for the pizza to arrive.
Angel opened her beer, taking a sip and then putting it on a coaster on the bedside table. Charles had allowed her to drink since she was sixteen, reasoning that as long as the world didn’t know that she existed she might as well have something to occupy herself with. Angel, however, knew that what he really wanted was a drinking buddy. It didn’t bother her, though, and she actually enjoyed the bittersweet tang of alcohol. She particularly enjoyed wine, but she would never turn down a good beer like the one her father gave her.
They sat on their respective beds for a while, watching as the coroners on CSI and all of the detectives tried to figure out a case of a woman’s murder, when there was suddenly a knock at the door. Charles looked questioningly at Angel, who nodded once, stood, and went to hide in the bathroom. The last thing they would need is for the delivery guy to freak out at her wings. Angel waited until she heard her father close the hotel room’s door after paying for their dinner before she finally came out of the bathroom. Her pepperoni and bacon pizza was on her bed, while Charles was sitting on his bed already halfway through the first slice of his.
“Supper’s ready,” he said through a mouthful of pizza.

By about two in the morning, Charles was sound asleep. He had probably about six beer bottles on the ground beside him, so Angel knew he wouldn’t even twitch his arm if she had the T.V. on full volume. Angel sighed inwardly and threw back the covers on her bed, piling her pillows in a row on the bed so that it would look like she was sleeping there when her father woke up later. She placed a note on top of the pillows before covering them once again. She had written it when her father had made a quick run to the general store earlier for more beer for him and a Moxy energy drink for Angel. She had written:

Dear Daddy,

I’m sorry that I disappeared so suddenly. There is so much going on that I don’t even understand, but I was told that I would have to leave you for now. Please don’t be mad…I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, and I promise I’ll be extra careful where I am.
I’m not sure why I had that weird vision earlier, nor do I know what it meant, but I know it at least means something really big and probably bad is going to happen soon. Please, please, please be careful! Don’t answer the door unless you know for sure who’s behind it, and lock the doors and windows every night before you go to sleep. Go to the bank in the morning and get some cash; you probably shouldn’t use your credit card for a while. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you while I’m gone.
I’ve taken Tiger with me, so don’t freak out about him being missing too. Call Jeremy when you see this; he’ll tell you where you’ll be safe.
I love you, daddy. I promise I’ll call or email or something as soon as possible, and I’ll come back home as soon as I can.

-Angel

Once Angel was finished with the bed, she sat cross-legged with her back against the wall and closed her eyes. She was aware of Tiger climbing into her lap as she patiently waited for the voices to start talking. She fingered the silver Irish cross necklace her father had given her as a birthday present after they had eaten. She had been surprised, because she had thought that the cloak had been her present, but when Charles didn’t seem to know what she was talking about she had quickly changed the subject.
“Angel,” a voice finally said, its tone causing the word to sound almost like a curse. Angel cringed. It was the voice (she had figured out that it was male quite some time ago, as it was very deep and for some reason reminded her of Darth Vader) that she didn’t like nearly as much as the others. It always made her feel like a mouse that is in the mercy of a snake, who was preparing to strike. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Angel answered, her thoughts curt.
“Come outside,” it told her. Angel stood, pulling the backpack over her wings and shoulders and picking up Tiger. She was already completely dressed; in fact, she never got out of her clothes tonight. Thankfully, Charles hadn’t noticed. Angel had come in front of the door and was about to open it when she suddenly heard another voice.
“Angel, come to the bathroom, quickly!” Angel blinked. This voice was the female voice that she had taken a liking to from the first time that she had ever heard it. But now it was telling her not to go?
“Don’t do anything that missorugi tells you!” the male voice snarled. “Come outside, this instant!”
“Angel, don’t listen to him!” the female voice cautioned. “You don’t want to go with him, believe me!”
“Come outside, Angel! I’m warning you!”
“Stay in, go to the bathroom! Hurry, before it’s too late!”
“Don’t listen to her!”
“Pay no attention to him!”
“If you value your life-”
“Please, you must-”
“BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP!!!” Angel’s thought was a scream. Quickly, before the voices began to talk again, she turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom. Tiger was still purring in her arms as she shut the door, careful not to drop her burden.
“Ok, voice, the female one,” she thought, “What do you want me to do in here?”
“Stand on the counter with the sink," the voice instructed Angel. Angel raised an eyebrow but did as she was told.
“Now,” the voice continued, though she sounded hurried, “close your eyes and step towards the mirror. Don’t be afraid to overstep, just pretend that you’re walking out to your balcony.”
“I’m taking Tiger with me,” Angel warned. The voice hesitated.
“Very well…but you may wish to hold onto him. Tightly. You won’t want to loose him, believe me.”
Angel tightened her hold on her cat and ignored his protesting meows. She closed her eyes and stepped out, thinking that at any minute her foot would make contact with the mirror and she’d be making a complete fool of herself.
She felt her foot make contact with the ground. Eyes still closed, she brought her other foot forward, walking slowly. After another step she realized that Tiger’s meows were somehow echoing, like they were in a cathedral, or a tomb, or…
A cave. Somehow, Angel had gone from being in the hotel bathroom to being inside a cold, dark, dank cave. Angel looked over her shoulder, expecting to see the bathroom wall, but all she saw was the wall of the cave. She kept walking, her eyes searching for anything that might jump out at her. There was almost not enough light for even her sharp eyes, and she wondered where the mouth of the cave was.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of darkness, she saw a light up ahead. She quickened her pace, eager to get out of the cave so she could figure out exactly where she was and how she had gotten there. When she reached the opening she froze, stunned at what she saw.
A rolling valley, illuminated by the full moon above, stretched out before the cave, and Angel could hear a brook trickling not too far away. There were almost no trees except for one or two that were far off, but that did not detract from the beauty she saw. Angel noticed that there was an odd sort of smell in the area, something she had never known at home. It was bitter cold, and Angel was glad she had dressed warmly. A sharp breeze stung her cheeks and would have taken her breath away, had the mere sight of what was outside the cave already done so. The stars glistened overhead, and Angel could see a campfire blazing some distance away. She almost thought that there was no one at the fire, but then someone stepped out from behind the flames and stood beside the light.
It was a woman clad in a white long-sleeved blouse, a pair of dark brown pants, knee-high leather boots, and a long black cloak that nearly reached the ground; her hair was bright red – almost like the fire itself – and fell past her shoulders, she held herself proudly erect (“Like a queen,” Angel thought) and the fire made her skin seem more pale than it actually was. She had a willowy build, but Angel got the idea that she would not be someone that a person would want to make angry. She had high cheekbones, and her eyes – which Angel couldn’t quite make out their color from this distance – pierced through the remaining darkness that Angel was still standing in and seemed to look right through her. The woman’s Essence was a beautiful shade of purple, almost lavender but not quite. Then Angel noticed one thing that caused her heart to skip a beat. The woman had a pair of feathered wings, white as the snow dotting the landscape behind her.
“Welcome to Lansreth,” Angel heard the voice in her head and immediately knew it was the woman. She took a cautious step forward, still clinging tightly to Tiger, who had ceased his yowling being as surprised at the change in their surroundings as she.
“Who are you?” Angel asked, for perhaps the hundredth time in her life. She almost didn’t believe that the woman would tell her, but to her surprise she did. The woman straightened herself.
“I am Belcaize,” the woman answered. “And I am your sister. Welcome home, Angel.” Belcaize thought, smiling. “It has been a long time.”

i Dribbled...
you've Got Quite The Talent.. *Wants More* !

Cool story, bro.

This is very good. Have you done all the editing yourself?
How far into it are you?

GOOD. GOOD. I feel the dark side pulsing through your vains.
if not join the dark side we have Cookies! LOL

*blush* thanks, guys! glad everyone seems to like it! yeah, I do pretty much everything myself except for the languages that come later in the story...with that, I get a friend to help me ^^

so far I'm on chapter six, which I haven't named yet (too early); I also already have a capture scene planned out, but it won't be put into the story until later...they need to go through a forest and get nearly killed first *evil grin*

That is by far the most amazing story I have ever seen/heard/read in my entire life, and let me tell you, I've heard many gripping tales, but this one takes the cake. I hope to see more sometime in the future. :)

Due to the fact that you all seem to like it, I'll extend this a bit and let you guys see a bit more of Lansreth (the land) itself...enjoy!

Note: nammieh means "welcome", durkah means "sister", and missarugi is an understood insult

CHAPTER THREE: PERYN:

Angel couldn’t believe what she had heard. “I have a sister?” she thought incredulously. Then again, it wasn’t all that difficult to believe, especially considering the fact that Belcaize had a pair of wings as well. Still, Angel wasn’t entirely sure what to make out of all of this. Belcaize motioned for Angel to approach. Angel unfurled her wings and quickly closed the rather large distance between them, landing perhaps six feet away from the woman. Belcaize smiled, and Angel could sense a deep pain around her…but not one in the flesh.
“You look so much like I remembered…” Belcaize said, her voice gentle. Angel could see that her eyes were, in fact, almost exactly like Charles’s. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving him like she did.
“Is my dad…” she started, unable to finish.
“He is alright. Jeremy is watching over him even now,” Belcaize replied. “It was a good thing you didn’t open the door, Angel.”
“What would have happened?” Her curiosity had gotten the better of her tongue, and the question slipped out of its own accord. Belcaize waved the question away.
“Later. There are many things you will find out soon, but right now we both need our sleep. We have much flying to do in the morning if we’re to reach Peryn before dark. It’s one of the cities in Lansreth,” she said, seeing the question in Angel’s eyes.
Angel nodded, releasing Tiger. He padded to a rock near the campfire and sat on it, his tail flicking irritably as he glared through half-closed eyes at Angel. Angel accepted a bedroll from Belcaize, settling near Tiger.
“So sue me,” she hissed at him. He regarded her warily for a moment, then with a sudden switch in attitude and a small “chirrup”, he came to curl up at her back. Angel smiled as he purred against her, and gradually, as she stared at the dancing flames, she drifted off to sleep…

Angel – sensing that her name was Mairin – thrust her claymore through the torso of the brute in front of her, its dying scream mingled with those of his falling brethren. Angel unfurled her wings and leapt up into the air, coming at a group of five Fyzen with an aerial attack. They were dead before they knew she was above them.
“What could Shakar use these ugly brutes for, anyway?” she yelled above the din. Belcaize, who was fighting nearby, wore a grim expression.
“Other than as a distraction? Not much…though you have to admit, in numbers they do put up a decent fight.”
Fyzen, who possessed the intellect of cows, were regarded as some of the most idiotic of all creatures in existence. They were usually surprisingly docile, but Shakar had somehow directed their rage towards Angel and Belcaize. The Fyzen had bodies of lions – though their fur was black – that stood on their hind legs like men, and they had faces of serpents. Their arms were somewhat human in structure, but they had razor-sharp, retractable claws at the ends of their respective fingers. Their eyes were almost white, and they stank like a cesspool. Usually they stayed in underground caves, only coming out at night to hunt in areas that were nearly deserted, but Shakar had taken control of the Fyzen and caused them to be out in the middle of the day…thirsting for a battle.
Suddenly the remaining Fyzen gave a unified cry and seemed to vanish as they scattered, disappearing underground to their homes. Angel and Belcaize’s eyes met, and they did not have to share a mental link to know what ran through both of their minds at that moment: Shakar had arrived.
A large black dragon circled the air above the sisters, the air ringing with its roar. Its eyes were cold and red as the crimson blood that stained the valley below, and its teeth were razor-sharp daggers ready to slice through the hardiest of obstacles with ease. When the dragon landed, Angel and Belcaize could see its rider, and both of their hearts ran cold at the sight of their one-time brother.
Shakar was the very image of an authorative Lord. He stood proudly, his well-muscled chest thrust out with his shoulders held back, and his legs were held shoulder-length apart; his Essence was a gray-black smoke that curled around him wherever he moved to. He was clad in armor as black as the scales of his dragon steed, a black iron visor covering his face from view. His wings, which he had kept in their original dark red color, were also covered in a lighter armor that would allow him to fly freely if he needed to do so. A sword was strapped to his side, and as he pulled it out of its scabbard the blue-tinted blade gleamed wickedly in the sunlight.
“Nammieh, my dear sisters,” he said through the visor, bowing mockingly in their direction. He looked down at the carrion of his fallen Fyzen slaves and allowed himself to chuckle in amusement. “It seems you did not appreciate my welcoming party.”
“You are no longer a brother of mine, nor of Mairin,” Belcaize retorted, her voice cold as ice. “You threw that kinship away when you began plotting to overthrow the king.”
“Who, we may remind you, is still on the throne,” Angel added, standing upright. She had been wiping her blade clean on a nearby Fyzen corpse. Shakar looked at her, and Angel could feel his eyes boring through her own.
“My dear sister,” he said pityingly, “Why do you continue to fight against me? You know it is useless. We used to be so close, you and I.” He extended his hand in her direction. “Come. Join me in my fight for glory, for honor, for prestige! You could reign by my side, with all of Lansreth at your disposal.”
Belcaize stepped closer to Angel, glaring at Shakar. “She will not,” she growled, “We both know your true intentions. You care nothing of honor!”
Shakar’s hand was still extended, and Angel could see an odd-colored Essence forming around it. This one seemed to be many colors at once, but Angel knew its Intent was that of destruction.
“I regret,” Shakar was saying, “that I had to stoop to such a measure as this. I will miss you, Mairin.”
Suddenly the Essence shot out of his hand and flew at Angel. Before she or Belcaize had time to react, the Essence had drilled into her chest. At first Angel felt nothing; as she looked down at the hole that was now where her heart had once been, however, she was suddenly filled with a deep, agonizing pain. It felt like fire had spread throughout her body, boiling her blood and instantly chilling it with the coldest ice of the second winter. Bloody tears sprang to her eyes, and she fell to her knees. She looked up at Belcaize through a veil of red, and the last thing she heard was her sister’s furious, pain-filled scream as Angel was suddenly thrust into a world of cold, silent, lonely darkness.

Angel sat up, panting and drenched in sweat. Tiger gave an irritated meow at being rudely awakened, and resituated himself and was soon once again asleep. Angel looked over to where Belcaize was sleeping and was relieved to see that she hadn’t stirred. She had no clue what she had just dreamed about, and she didn’t feel very eager to talk about it just yet either. Eventually, once her heart had stopped thudding hard in her chest, Angel settled back down and fell back asleep, this time without any dreams.

Angel awoke to see Belcaize hurrying about the campsite, packing up whatever was left out. She was somewhat surprised to see this, since it was still dark. They had to have only gotten three, maybe four hours of sleep.
“Good, you’re up,” she said when she noticed Angel stretching her wings. “Put out the fire and eat your breakfast. We need to get out of here soon.” She waved a hand at a plate of food and a cup of – can it be? – coffee on the rock near where Angel was lying. Angel scrambled out of the bedroll and picked up the plate, wolfing down the food as quickly as she could without making herself sick. When she was finished she gulped down her coffee and cleaned the plate and cup as well as she could. She stuffed them into the knapsack Belcaize was busy putting things into, then worked on putting out the fire.
Once the campsite was cleared out, Belcaize hefted her knapsack and Angel followed her example, pulling her backpack over her wings and picking up Tiger who gave a low growl in the back of his throat as a warning not to squeeze him again. Belcaize nodded once at Angel, then wordlessly unfurled her wings and took to the skies. Angel was close behind, the wind rushing in her face as cold as the ocean waters off of the coast of Maine.
“While we fly, I want you to begin re-learning everything you used to know about Lansreth,” Angel heard Belcaize’s thoughts say. “It will take a while, but you’ll catch on quickly enough if you really try.”
“Sounds good to me,” Angel replied, “Where do we start?”
“I have heard the beginning is the best place,” Belcaize said lightly, and Angel could almost have sworn that she saw a grin flash across her face momentarily. “For starters, this is a completely different world than you are accustomed to, as I’m sure you’ve begun to figure out by now. Our seasons can be akin to those of the world you are familiar with, but we have a very different calendar. For example, our spring could very well be during their summer or autumn. And we have two winters, I might add.”
“Two winters?” Angel thought incredulously. She remembered thinking something about two winters in her dream the previous night. “What’s the difference between them?”
“The first winter,” Belcaize replied, “is much like the one you are accustomed to. The second, however, is so cold that you would freeze to death if you were out in it for any length of time over perhaps a few minutes. There is a certain day between the two that marks the transition from the first winter to the second winter, which is called Dahelithdar. It is actually a great celebration in Lansreth; gifts are exchanged, parties are held, and friends and families come from all over just to be with each other.”
“It sounds a lot like Christmas,” Angel remarked. Belcaize thought about this for a moment and answered slowly,
“Yes…I suppose it does, doesn’t it?”
“So, who was the other guy that was talking to me last night?” Angel asked. Belcaize shook her head.
“Someone I hope you don’t meet face-to-face for a long time. His name is Shakar, and he is the current lord of Lansreth.” She paused, and then added quietly, “He is also our brother… but I’m sure you do not yet remember this.”
“Is that why he was able to talk to me like you do?”
“Yes, it is. He wasn’t always bad, though…you and he actually used to be very close. But then he developed a thirst for power, and eventually he took over the throne where he has been ruling one-hundred years since.”
“A hundred years?!” Angel exclaimed. “How long can he live?!”
“We can live indefinitely,” Belcaize answered. “You were actually the first of us to die…and it was not by natural causes, either.”
“What happened?”
Belcaize shook her head. “Later,” she said firmly. “Right now you need to re-learn the history of Lansreth, and its throne.”

For the rest of the day, as they flew east and just slightly to the north, Angel was educated in Lansreth’s detailed history, committing to memory everything known from the beginning of the land’s civilization up until its current monarchial existence. She was drilled in the history of the crown, starting with King Shrangoth, who had founded the first northern colonies, and continuing on down the line until the former King Thalós was murdered and the throne was thereby claimed by Shakar. Belcaize told her that there had been a resistance against Shakar while King Thalós was still alive, but she wouldn’t go into complete detail about it yet except to tell her that Angel had been involved.
“It can wait,” Belcaize had said as they prepared to land about a mile away from the city gates of Peryn. “Just focus on what I’ve told you today.”
Angel did think about everything Belcaize had told her. She found it all so intriguing; a history apart of the one she had been studying all throughout her life. She had always wondered what life would have been like under a monarchy, and it seemed that now she would have the chance to find out.

As they approached the gates, Angel drew her cloak tightly about herself. She had put it on earlier that day, surprised by how warm it actually was once they began to fly. She had learned that the cloak was actually a present from Belcaize, which Jeremy slipped into her room while she was out flying on her birthday. She had no idea how he managed to get in, though, but didn’t feel like asking. Now, though, a different sort of chill crept beneath her skin as she took in the menacing towers of the city walls and the burly guards standing before the gates.
“Pull your wings in as close as you can so the guards cannot see them. Let me handle this,” Belcaize told her just as they had come to stand in front of the guards, pulling in her own wings as she did so. Angel was more than willing to comply. The guard on the left, who looked like his nose had been broken more than once in his lifetime, stepped forward and lowered his spear at the travelers.
“Who are you and what is your business in Peryn?” he growled menacingly. Belcaize met his gaze squarely and held it for a moment or two, not long enough for either guard to truly take notice but long enough for Angel to wonder what she would do.
“Sir,” Belcaize said, suddenly the perfect model of a weary traveler, “my sister and I have traveled far. We seek refuge from the cold of the night and the beasts outside of the city gates.”
The guard paused, looking the two over for a moment, then finally raised his spear and stepped aside, motioning towards the gates. “Alright, then, get on inside. We were just about to close the gates for the night; consider yourselves lucky.”
“Thank you, sir!” Belcaize said, leading Angel to the open gates. “Come, belmeir, we need to get to an inn.”
Before they could get past the gates, Tiger suddenly leaped from Angel’s grasp and went to sniff at the second guard’s boots. Angel didn’t dare move as her cat stared unblinkingly up at the guard, who – to her utter surprise – smiled slightly and reached down to pick up Tiger. This guard was about the same height as Angel, though he had a very muscular build that was obvious even under the armor that he wore. His hair was shoulder-length and changed color with the light, looking black one minute and gold the next and so on. His Essence, unlike the other guard’s (whose Essence was the usual greenish-blue of a human) was a coppery red with a few streaks of blue here and there. He glanced at the first guard, who had lost all interest in the travelers and was busy filling a pipe, before he turned his attention on Angel.
“You may wish to keep a close eye on this one,” he said, his voice low but kind. Angel met his eyes and was surprised to see kindness there as well. He handed Tiger back to Angel, who gratefully took her cat.
“I will,” she answered shyly. The guard tilted his head slightly.
“I was speaking to the cat,” he replied, not unkindly and not without a bit of humor in his voice. The guard smiled then, and gave a slight bow to Angel and Belcaize. Belcaize touched her first two fingers to her forehead in some kind of sign, then motioned for Angel to follow her into the city. Angel looked back at the guard one last time before the gates closed behind her.

Belcaize and Angel were silent as they walked through the darkening streets. Eventually they found their way to an inn, called Dragon’s Bane. Belcaize opened the door to the inn’s pub and stepped inside. Angel followed closely behind, shutting the door once she was in as well.
The pub was crowded, to say the least, and extremely noisy. It was not very well lit; the only source of light came from the fireplace at the left wall and a few lanterns hanging over the bar. There was a great deal of people there, though Angel realized that not everyone was necessarily human. There were some humans but there were also dwarves, a few scattered elves, and some creatures that Angel did not have any clue as to what they were. In one corner near the bar was a crowd surrounding a shirtless man who grinned mischievously before there was a sudden flash, and in his place there was suddenly a raven. Another flash, and the man was there once more. At another corner of the room was a small huddle of hooded figures, deeply engrossed in something written on a scroll.
“Come on, Angel,” Belcaize muttered, tugging on her sister’s arm. Angel mutely followed, still gawking at one person who was sitting alone at a table eating some bread, meat, and gruel. At least, he seemed to be doing that, but Angel noticed a small, serpentine head poke out from his jacket and eagerly snap up a piece of meat he held in front of it. The man noticed her staring and winked at her before redirecting his attention to his meal.
Belcaize led Angel to the back of the room, which also happened to be the place with the worst lighting, and stopped beside the last table. There was already someone sitting there, a hood over his head so Angel had no clue who – or what – he was. Belcaize obviously knew him, though, because she immediately sat down beside him and pulled close to the figure in a hug only two lovers would share. The man drew back his hood and smiled at her, kissing her briefly on the lips.
“So, how was the journey?” he asked Belcaize, his voice coming from deep within his chest. Belcaize shrugged slightly.
“It was alright. She took it rather well,” She looked up and looked steadily at Angel, who took the hint and sat down on the opposite side of the table. The man then turned his attention to Angel.
“So, it’s Angel now, is it?” he asked, taking a sip from the tankard of ale in front of him. “You have grown so much since I last saw you.”
Angel tilted her head, studying the man. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him before. His eyes were gray-blue and had the appearance of one who had seen more than his years; his hair was jet-black, and he was surrounded by an essence that was primarily a dark blue. He wore a gray shirt and a black leather coat, and had a silver ring on his finger with a light blue stone in the center surrounded by a network of thin metal vines. “Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Tural,” he answered. “I was only with the resistance for a short time. I brought you to earth as an infant after you died.”
“And, he also happens to be my fiancé,” Belcaize added, grinning at Tural. Tural smiled in return and took a hold of her hand. Angel was puzzled.
“What are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Well,” Tural said, “I used to be a regular human. I would have died of old age by now if it wasn’t for Belcaize. She changed me so that I could live as long as she does… and the process that she used also brought out abilities I didn’t even know I had.”
“So that’s why his Essence is different than other humans’,” Angel thought. Belcaize looked curiously at her at this, and Angel realized she must have heard her thoughts. It was going to be very different if her every thought was always out in the open like this.
Tural released Belcaize’s hand and stood, going over to the bar. Suddenly Angel’s attention was directed to a rather tall human who had drunk one too many pints.
“He’s going to start a fire,” she said quickly. Belcaize followed her sister’s gaze, and then closed her own eyes briefly. Tural looked towards the human and headed in his direction. The drunk started singing loudly, swinging his pint wildly in the air and spraying all of his nearby bar mates with the remaining beer in the mug. Tural dodged the spray and stepped beside the drunk, singing with him. Suddenly the drunken man’s arm knocked one of the lanterns off of its hook above the bar, and it would have quickly caught fire to all of the spilled alcohol if Tural hadn’t grabbed it out of midair and calmly set it upright on the bar as though that sort of thing happened every day. The bartender noticed this, and nodded his thanks.
Angel relaxed in her seat. She knew that the bar was safe, at least for tonight. Belcaize turned to face her.
“How often do you have precognitive things happen to you?” she asked casually.
“It depends,” Angel replied, watching out of the corner of her eye as Tural waited for a plate of food from the bar. “I sometimes just kind of have a hunch that something’s going to happen, like I just did, if it involves me in some way; then I also get visions, which hurt. A lot. I always have a really bad headache afterwards, but chocolate or alcohol helps out with that.”
“I wonder what else you can still do,” Belcaize mused quietly as Tural returned. He had brought two plates, one for Belcaize and the other for Angel, and the barkeep had sent a serving boy (or rather, something that Angel realized after a bit of studying was a hobbit) after him with two pints of ale and a bowl of water; the hobbit set the water in front of Tiger and gave Angel and Belcaize the two pints of ale. Angel began to eat the salted pork, bread, and corn in front of her, realizing that she was starving. She and Belcaize hadn’t stopped to eat lunch, so for the entire day she had been going on what she ate for breakfast that morning, as had Tiger. She gave him a portion of her salted pork and took a long draught of ale.
As she ate, Angel half-listened to the conversation Belcaize and Tural were having, and after a moment of this she realized she couldn’t understand a word they were saying. She did, however, recognize one word, and remembered Belcaize saying it when they were at the gates.
“What does belmeir mean?” Angel interrupted. Belcaize looked curiously at her for a moment.
“Where did you hear that?” she asked.
“You called me that earlier, when we were at the city’s gates.”
Belcaize nodded, remembering. “So I did,” she said. “It means ‘sister’ in an ancient language…one that isn’t very commonly used today. You might say it was the first language in Lansreth. You used to know it; perhaps you will begin to remember how to speak it as your memory returns.”
Belcaize turned back to Tural and they resumed their conversation, though now they spoke a little more quietly. Angel, however, was no longer paying attention – she had given up trying to understand what they were saying – and was content to finish her meal in silence. Tiger nudged her hand and she absently slipped him some more meat, which he eagerly devoured.
Some time after Angel finished her meal, Belcaize noticed her futile attempts at trying to stay awake.
“Why don’t you go ahead to our room,” she suggested. “You need your sleep. I’ll be up in a little while, once Tural and I are finished.”
Angel stood, picking up her bag, and headed in the direction Belcaize indicated, with Tiger following closely at her heels. She walked through a door at the front of a bar and up a flight of stairs until she was on the third floor, then she slowly walked past a line of doors until she saw one on her left that Belcaize had said was their room. She opened the door and entered, shutting the door behind Tiger, and tossed her backpack into a corner, kicking off her shoes and tossing them in the corner as well. Not even bothering to change her clothes, she fell across the farther of the two beds and was asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

I do believe that you could rather easily adapt this into a screenplay if you so chose.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that the cat either a. has a human form or b. is smarter then he let's on
Also, I detect influences from Tolkien (obviously)as well as Rowling and possibly some minute traces of Anime. Am I correct?
Wonderful as always, I am looking forward to reading more in the future.

^.^ Tolkein, yes, SOME (not much, but SOME) Rowling, but no anime...not to say that I don't like it, I just didn't use anime in it at all... I also have some aspects from the Eragon book, but not much.

And I won't tell you what's up with Tiger, but I will say that you're wrong on both counts *grins mischievously*

Damn, I thought I was picking up a sort of magical girl anime type vibe.
Okay, but would it be stretching it to say that the cat is more then just a sidekick and place a pivotal role in advancing the story?
Also, would I be correct to assume that we are going to see that guard again?

yep, the guard will come back later...though you'll be surprised at the role he plays! also, the cat will be more than just a "sidekick", but that isn't until chapter 6...this is all I'm saying on that matter: BIG kitty

gah, I'm bored...can't think of anything to write on my book atm...and no one's rp'ing T_T

I'm going to guess love interest.

i will eventualy read this

GUESS WHAT?!?!?!?! The school newspaper at my high school actually published a thingy that I wrote describing my book!!! *happy dance*

hehe, thanks! I hope people will read the thing I have in the library about it (prologue through chapter three, like in here)

LOVE IT!!! <3

AAGHHH! You changed something at some point and I don't now what! Also I decided to dig this up. How goes it?

pretty good, actually. I'm on chapter eight now, lol! oh, and here's another sneak peek thing: Tiger becomes Gingivere, a griffin ^.^

Wow this reminded me of eragon mixed with the maximum ride series oth of witch are great books in my opinion I like and wish to read more.

ok, I offically have awesome freaking teachers!! I get to take Creative Writing in second period next semester, which means I will have a class where I will be ALLOWED to ACTIVELY work on my book!!! Plus, I'll be having the same 4th period I had this semester, only I'll be working on Spanish 2. Once I finish that, I can use that period to work on my book too!!!! *happy dance* At the moment, I'm on chapter 10...though I'm thinking about extending the chapters so there's more to 'em, which would probably cut me back to...um...chapter 5 maybe? idk, I'm going to work on it when I come back....which, inevitably, means that you guys will also be able to read more of what I've written, lol ^.^

Ok, I edited the prologue and the first chapter (which you will see is now simply called "Angel") When I get the time, I'll edit the other sections of the story itself. During that time, I hope everyone likes the changes so far!